What? I'm a elf? YES!
by RudeMinnesotan
Summary: Harry lived a long and full life. When he died, he expected to pass on into the afterlife. However, when he woke up in a smelly cave, he knew something was wrong. It started with him being tiny. But upon discovering his ears, he got excited. The people he met afterward just confirmed his excitement. He had no idea what was going on, but he liked it! Elfling!Harry. Gen. Swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't. Also: I've never read the books, and have only watched the movies once—9 years ago (from writing this in 2018). Sooo… yeah, there's gonna be mistakes. Most of my knowledge of the storyline comes from fanfic lol.**

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Harry rolled over in his sleep and pulled in a little snore. Then he smacked his lips and curled up. His brow furrowed though. This wasn't his comfortable bed that he'd died in.

Wait. He was supposed to be dead. This was the afterlife, right? Then why did it smell bad? And his pillow was quite uncomfortable.

His eyes opened quickly, then his nose joined his brow in furrowing. It smelt terrible in here.

Slowly, Harry sat up and rubbed his face. Everything felt… off. A quick pat down on his body revealed one problem: he was tiny.

"This better—" His thoughts, about how this better be a prank from the Weasleys (even George's great-grandson was a prankster) were cut off as he heard his voice. It sounded so…. Musical!

"Oh fuck," he cursed, groping at his head. The second he felt his ears… the POINTED…ears… he actually squeaked. Harry jumped up to his feet quickly, spinning around. When his eyes landed on a nearby shield next to a skeleton—ew—he ran to it and picked it up. He rubbed it with his elbow to make the surface shiny enough to see.

"Holy fuck… I'm an elf!" He stared in shock for a few moments, then pumped his fist, "YES!" The shield was dropped in favor of a tiny happy dance!

His happy dance, which had some pretty epic moves, stopped when he heard footsteps approaching. Harry rushed over towards where he heard the sounds, leaning around the entryway to the room he was in.

Coming towards him was an old man, tiny men, other men, a tall man, a short man. Ooo. Lots of men. Harry fluttered for a second as he thought about what to do, then he ran over to the big tomb like thing—it was probably a tomb—and hid behind it in the shadows.

The group was talking amongst themselves as they came into the room until one of them let out a cry—maybe a name? Harry couldn't understand them, unfortunately—and rushed closer to where Harry was. He curled into himself, trying to get as small as possible, biting his lip to hold in his giggles. Why was this so fun? Like hide and seek with his grandkids!

The old man—Harry could tell from his voice—started to speak, the cadence suggesting he was reading from something. One man was still crying. Harry's urge to laugh died. Crying was sad. It made Harry sad too.

Without thinking Harry sniffled, the sound echoing in the cave-like feature they were in. All sound stopped and Harry clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide. 'Oh shit!' he thought, his urge to laugh back. His emotional turn around was going to give him whiplash

Two sets of feet slowly made their way over to where Harry was hiding. Soon, Harry had two swords and an arrow in his face. His eyes, still wide, stared up at the three men—why had he only hear two sets of feet?—around him and dropped his hands to grin brightly.

"Hi!" He laughed hearing his voice again. The blond and black haired one's mouths dropped open in shock. "I'm Harry, who are you!?"

"Sindarin?" the blond muttered, hands going slack.

"An elf?" The black haired one asked at the same time. The last man said something too, but Harry couldn't understand.

When Harry spoke the old man came around and joined two of them in their shock. The little men all came around and looked shocked as well.

"Is there something on my face?" Harry asked, patting his face. He was staring at the blond too…. Then jumped to his feet and pointed.

"YOU'RE AN ELF. I'M AN ELF TOO!" Harry was shouting because of his excitement. The old man was the first to recover and surged forward to put a wrinkly hand over Harry's mouth.

"Quiet, foolish child!" He whispered harshly. Harry blinked wide and nodded behind the hand. The old man removed his hand and Harry smiled, but Harry mimed locking his mouth shut. Two of the short ones giggled, so Harry turned his smile to them.

The elf, because he had pointed ears like him, knelt down so he was closer to Harry's height—and damn, he was fucking short now wasn't he? They were all taller than him!—and put a hand on his shoulder, speaking in the language he could understand.

"Little one, how did you come to be here?"

Harry shrugged. "Where is here?" He asked.

The short—but not the shortest—and red-haired man spoke. He looked like someone took a Weasley and smooshed them into a pancake. The mental image set Harry into giggles. The one with black hair was who answered him, however, "The caves of Moria."

"No idea," Harry replied around his giggles, stepping brazenly closer to his fellow Elf. He ran a few of his fingers through the Elf's long hair, slightly mesmerized. "I woke up here," He elaborated. In a completely unhelpful way.

The Elf and the Black-haired one looked at each other over Harry's head. As the only two—maybe three, the old man spoke in the same language too—to understand him, that answer was worrying.

A conversation happened then, but Harry wasn't paying attention. He was distracting himself with the blond Elf's shirt. The elf had wrapped an arm around Harry to hold him close in a facsimile of a hug. But, like any child—Harry would know, he'd had 3 himself and a good dozen grandchildren. Not to mention the great-grandchild before he died—he lacked an attention span. He leaned over the arm that held him close to the elf at the littlest men and waved.

"Hello," His voice tinkled like bells and it made Harry want to laugh more.

They waved back to him, smiling as well.

"What are your names?" Harry asked, not caring that they probably didn't understand. "I'm Harry." He pointed to himself as he said that, so proud of his own name.

The four little people looked at each other. The one with the darkest hair seemed to, maybe, understand. The gibberish that followed probably contained their names. Harry tilted his head and tried again.

"Harry." And pointed to himself. Then he pointed to the lightest haired little man. This way he got the names Sam, Frodo, Merry, and Pippin. Harry was so happy to have some names.

"Ohoh, maybe," he started and pointed to the elf who was holding him. Frodo said, "Legolas," and Harry realized it would work. He pointed all around and got the rest of the names, wiggling in his happiness.

Legolas chuckled softly when Harry wiggled and quickly stood up, picking up Harry at the same time. Harry made a noise of shock, staring with wide eyes at the blond.

"Warn me next time," He fake waped the elf on the shoulder, though his other hand was clutching Legolas' shirt tightly, legs squeezing the waist he was held against.

"Sorry, little one," Legolas consoled, "We need to get moving. Will you come with us?"

Harry leaned back in Legolas' arms and nodded. "Of course," he said, "Where else will I go? I don't wanna stay here, it smells."

Aragorn snickers at Harry's words, but didn't explain to the others. Legolas was tempted, though, just so he could see Gimli's reaction.

The merry (HAH) moment came to an end when they all started to hear The Drums. Harry knew they had capital letters—the sound was ominous and deserved the capitals.

Gandalf, the old man, barked something to them even while Boromir? Was that the name of the other man? Harry couldn't remember—nor did he really care. He'd discovered that his clothes were finely decorated, like the elf who held him.

Speaking of the elf, Legolas shuffled Harry off to a dark corner as the people began to prepare to defend themselves.

"Stay here, little one," Legolas whispered quickly, "And please stay safe!" The elf looked at Harry the way Harry remembered looking at James when he'd first gone off to Hogwarts. Realizing the seriousness (Harry mentally snickered, as he should have with that silly name pun) of the situation, he nodded and made the promise.

Unfortunately, the promise only lasted until the mother fucking TROLL Came in and Harry was remembering his first time encountering a troll. He was probably bigger at 11 at Hogwarts than he was now at whatever age he was in Moria, but that Saving People Thing reared its ugly head.

Quickly patting down his body and finding no wand, Harry didn't care as he just rushed forward towards the other small people. He jumped in front of Frodo and shouted with an outstretched arm, "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" and then proceeded to use the magic—yaay magic!—to beat the Troll against the ceiling and floor of the cave.

Most stopped at this action, shocked at what the tiny Elfling was doing, none so much as Frodo and Legolas. Okay, well, most of them. Gandalf, Aragorn, and Legolas the most at his display of magic, and Frodo because the tiny child had jumped in front of him when there was a troll bearing down upon them!

The rest didn't really know it as something out of the norm, Boromir especially, and just continued to attack the stunned monsters.

Harry smiled at his handy work, the Troll successfully knocked out and turned to Frodo to smile. Then he threw out a thumbs up which the other hand no idea what meant.

Eventually, they were fleeing from the room, Harry clinging to Legolas' back like a limpet since the Elf would be the least burdened by Harry's additional weight. It made getting arrows difficult, but Harry maneuvered himself out of the way of the quiver so Legolas could grab them as needed.

It was quite frightening when the Balrog appeared and Harry was frozen in that fear—something he blamed on being tiny again. Also because he'd never seen anything as terrifying as that creature. Quite natural, his reaction, eyes wide as he just stared as Gandalf fell.

The group was somber as they fled the caves. When they finally decided to rest, Harry was being cradled in Legolas' lap and the tiny elf was glad for it. While, mentally, he could understand his fear, his body was still in shock as a result. It was a bit disconcerting for his adult mind, but he tried as best as he could.

Frodo questioned about Harry's magic and how the child hadn't tried to use it to save the Wizard, but Harry was locked in his fear and Frodo realized why Harry hadn't helped… and he felt shamed for expecting a child, not to mention one they'd just met, to do something none of the adults could have.

The next few days were a bit of a daze for the new elf Harry, but eventually, he came to as they entered a forest. Harry could feel the magic in the air and it seemed to snap him out of his daze.

"Where are we?" He finally asked, having been clinging to Legolas' back once more. His chin pressed into the Elven prince's shoulder, arms around his neck and legs going around his chest.

"We are in the woods of Lorien. We seek the council of the lady Galadriel and there you will remain safe," came Legolas' reply, patting a leg that was clinging to him.

"Is she important? Is she the one whose magic I can feel? Will she help us? Is she an elf too? Will she like me? What does she look like?" The questions came out rapid fire and Legolas, plus Aragorn had to laugh at the cuteness of it.

"Yes, she is important, dear one," Legolas began, followed by Aragorn.

"We hope that she will aid us," the Ranger said, helping the hobbits through the forest. He didn't want to say that they were in desperate need of help, but…

Gimli, or the Weasley Pancake as Harry was still calling him mentally, chose that moment to grumble.

Harry stared at him before turning to Legolas, "What language is that? Why can't I speak it? Can I speak it? I don't understand what he's saying."

The last sentence brought deep chuckles out of both Aragorn and Legolas since they were an echo of what the dwarf had just said.

"He is speaking common, little Harry," explained Legolas, "And I imagine you can not speak it because you do not know it."

An epic pout pulled on Harry's face, Aragorn taking the moment to explain what was happening to the others who didn't understand, and the hobbits found it adorable—Pippin even cooed.

"Can I learn?" Harry finally asked. The next several hours were spent teaching Harry some words in Common. The lessons were interrupted by Elves surrounding them, blindfolding them, and bringing them to Lothlorien.

Harry spent the journey blindfolded as well, raising his hand immediately after Aragorn called for it—and Legolas translated—wanting to be first. When the guard did, Harry smiled so wide as he prattled to him about how awesome it was to meet another elf and how cool were they, could he have a green blindfold instead of black, and what was your name?

The guards were lighthearted at the elfling's voice, and Harry continuing to ask—and receive answers to—his questions as they made the journey.

Once the blindfolds were removed, Harry slid off of Legolas' back and trotted over to the pretty lady.

"Hi, I'm Harry. Who are you? You're pretty."

Galadriel couldn't hold in her delicate laugh, crouching down to be nearer to Harry's height.

"Hello, dear child, I am Galadriel. Well met." She brushed the back of her fingers down Harry's downy soft cheek and he happily leaned into the gentle touch, just like his children—grandchildren—and great-grandchildren had done when he'd made the same gesture.

He walked to her afterward, wrapping his arms around her neck in a hug. She stood, holding him, while she addressed the rest of the Fellowship.

Eventually, everyone was retired to a room and Harry was no different. A quick bath, new clothes, and a promise to talk in the morning and he was asleep for the night.

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 **AN: I doubt this will be long, but who knows. I love me some fluff and may write a ton after the whole war, canon, whatever, is over.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't. Also, if you leave a guest review, I can't reply to you. Just a kind of... FYI. Because I WANT to reply to some of 'em. Buuutttt... I can't. Sooooo... yeah.**

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Harry rolled over in his sleep and buried his face into the cloud like pillow he was sleeping on. This had to be heaven... he'd died after all.

His eyes snapped open, staring into the pillow. Then his head shot up and he looked around the room. Quickly pulling his knees under him, Harry turned around and crawled to the foot of his bed. Only then did he realize he wasn't alone in the room.

He stared at the man in his room. No, wait, Elf. Look at those awesome ears; that was an elf.

"Hi!" Harry's voice, sounding like a bell, cracked from sleep. He laughed, so did the other elf, and then he cleared his voice. "I'm Harry! Who are you?"

The elf shook his head slowly, amused by the elfling's exuberance.

"My name is Lord Celeborn, the Lady Galadriel's husband."

"Oh-ho!" Harry popped a fist onto the palm of his other hand, remembering both her and what was going on. "The pretty lady!" He crawled the rest of the way to the end of his bed and tumbled over the edge. Celeborn lunged forward to help the little one, but Harry recovered quickly and shot up to his feet with a quipped, "I meant to do that!"

Celeborn shook his head then, heading over to the door of Harry's room. He spoke quietly to the guard there and then returned to the table he had been sitting next to. He couldn't sit, however, as Harry had crawled into the chair instead, grabbing at the pitcher of water.

"Child, let me help you," Celeborn insisted, grabbing the handle at the same time as Harry.

"I can do it..." muttered Harry stubbornly, but he really couldn't. Together they poured Harry a glass, which he was allowed to lift himself. Celeborn took the other seat at the table, eyes glued on the miracle before him.

Harry, once satisfied with the water glass he had to hold with both hands, let out a refreshed, "Ahh~!" and set down the glass.

"Why were you in my room, Lord Celly-born?" inquired the elfling, setting down his glass carefully. He grinned to himself when he succeeded. It was surprisingly heavy!

Celeborn opened his mouth to correct the young one but decided against it at the last moment. It wasn't important.

"I was waiting for you to wake. My wife and I felt that it may be ... unnerving... for one so young, such as yourself, to wake up in an unfamiliar place."

Harry could barely hold in the snort because it was true. His first thoughts weren't about being in an unfamiliar room, however.

"I'm okay!" Harry flexed his thin little kid arms. "I'm very strong!" He then looked at his arms and pouted. He poked at one arm with the other. The grown elf in the room laughed at the tiny elf's actions.

"Are you hungry?" Celeborn queried instead of acknowledging Harry's claim, "I have sent for breakfast since you slept so late into the day."

The dark head of hair snapped up at that and Harry scrambled from the chair to the window, throwing aside the curtain-but only managing to cover himself with it. He could see out the window though.

"Oh shit!" The tiny elf cried, shocking the Elf Lord in the room, "What time is it!?" He put his hands flat on the window, nose squished to the glass.

"Child!" Celeborn went to the curtain and pulled it back so he could see Harry. "That kind of language is unbecoming for one of your age!"

Harry, never used to being scolded (except by his late wife, and never for his language), turned an incredulous and confused face to Celeborn, looking up at him since he was such a tiny little thing now.

"What? You mean shit? I can't say shit? Well, fuck!" A part of Harry's brain realized this was may have been a bad route to go, but the other part that didn't, well, give a shit, just let the words flow.

Celeborn's eyes were wide, belaying his shock. He had no idea how to react! His child had never used language like that!

"Calm, dear husband," came Galadriel's voice from the door. The Elf Lord turned to see her and some servants unloading two trays of food on the table in Harry's room. "Where he hails from such words are... regrettably quite commonplace." She took the seat that Harry had vacated earlier, and that Celeborn had been sitting in even before that, and waved to the food in a silent invitation. "Though not for one of his age."

Harry allowed a sheepish look to cross his face, murmuring an apology to Lord Celeborn, before running over to the Lady Galadriel.

"There are only two chairs," he claimed as he held up his arms. Galadriel laughed, reaching down to pull the small elfling into her lap, arms holding him in place as he reached onto the table to retrieve breakfast for himself. Sedately, Celeborn followed and took a seat once more.

Conversation, while Harry and the two grand elves ate, was quiet and about inane things, and once he was finished did the questions Harry expected start.

"Child," began Celeborn, "How was it you came to be in the caves of Moria?"

Harry began his reply with a shrug, picking up a slice of apple to nibble on while they spoke.

"I don't know. I woke up there."

"And what is the last thing you remember before that?" probed Galadriel, afraid she already knew the answer.

"Dying."

Both Lord and Lady froze, a sad look upon their faces.

"It is as I feared... You walked the halls of Mandos, just like another before you..." Galadriel revealed. She had had a vision about the elfling coming to Lothlorien, and some glimpses of his life, but it was baffling for her as well...

"I don't know who that is, but I was just at home with my grandkids. My youngest great-grandchild, Fleamont, was there too since he's just a baby. What his father was thinking, naming him after my Grandfather, I'll never know…" Harry mumbled the last bit, shaking his head.

Once more the words of the elfling froze the grand elves in the room.

"Great-grandchild?" Celeborn began.

"How-..." Galadriel continued, eyes locked with her husband before looking at Harry, "How old were you when you passed, young Harry?"

"Uhm..." Harry scrunched up his face as he thought, "I think about ... two hundred thirty..." He scratched his head, "Thirty-seven?" Tilting his head back he smiled at Galadriel, "237. I was the last of my generation to die. Almost saw a great-great-grandchild too."

Now the age isn't much for an elf, but it was puzzling too.

"You... were not always an elf?" Galadriel asked and received a beaming smile in return.

"Nope! I was a wizard! But now I'm an elf, and that's awesome. I love being an elf, even though I've only been an elf for a short time. I wonder why I'm not a baby, I mean if I'm going to be reborn, assuming that's what happened, why am I not a baby? And why do I remember everything?" Tiny hands waved as Harry exposed his thoughts, "I'm just as confused as you are, lady."

Celeborn stifled a laugh covering it with a cough when Galadriel shot him a look.

"We had assumed," Celeborn brought the attention away from the fact he'd just laughed at his wife, "That you were a twice-born, like our good friend Glorfindel. He had passed on and stayed in the Undying lands for many years before returning to us. But if you were not an elf before, nor do you remember your time in the Halls of Mandos..." He trailed off, confusion taking hold of all in the room.

The atmosphere remained as such for only a short time, before Harry brought his shoulders up in a shrug.

"Don't give a shit," He chirped with a grin, forgetting about the language thing, "I'm here now and it's going to be great!"

Galadriel and Celeborn were torn on how to react.

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After the questions, Celeborn and Galadriel left Harry so that he could get ready for the day. He claimed he didn't need help because even if he was a child, he wasn't a baby. A servant waited for him anyway in case he needed help-which he did, with the clothes. Tunics were hard when your hands were tiny!

"Hey hey," Harry started, glancing over his shoulder to the male Elf helping him, "Can you bring me to see the people I came here with?"

The elf glanced at Harry's face, round and hopeful, and sighed. He was just supposed to watch over the young one, so he might as well.

"Of course, little one," he rose to his feet once he was finished, offering the shoes to Harry so he could pull them on himself-and Harry could, even if he used both hands and had to sit on the floor to do it.

As soon as he was finished Harry sprinted for the door and threw it open. He bounced as he waited for the other elf and then ran ahead once he had a direction. Harry continued this as well. He ran forward, waited and bounced, then ran forward again.

Eventually, they reached the area where the Fellowship was staying and Harry launched himself at Legolas, clinging to his back.

"I MET SO MANY ELVES HERE LEGOLAS!" He shouted into the ear of the blond elf, who flinched away from the loud sound. Gimli fell to the ground laughing. Harry waved to the others and said hello to everyone in Common, one of the few words he'd learned.

"I would imagine so, young Harry," Aragorn chuckled at his friend's misfortune, looking relaxed as he cleaned part of his gear. "We are in a settlement for elves."

"WE ARE?" Harry tilted his head, voice still loud. He thought about it... and then nodded. That made sense.

"Child," Legolas pleaded, "Please stop yelling into my ear."

"Why?"

"Because it is quite loud."

"Why?"

"...Because you are shouting."

"Why?"

Legolas' eye twitched. "I cannot fathom a reason, you would have to tell me."

"Why?"

The rest of the company laughed at the interaction. Even if they couldn't understand the exact words, the situation was familiar for any who had been around children before.

"I-..." a heavy sigh interrupted Legolas' words, "Because you are the only one who knows why you are shouting."

"Why?"

"Enough child!" Legolas snapped and Harry grinned, knowing he'd won. Legolas sighed for a second time, dropping his face into his hand.

"Sorry Lassy," quipped Harry with a waggle of his eyebrows, the Elven Prince squawking at the nickname. "My kids used to do that to me all the time."

This statement brought a look on intrigue to Aragorn's face.

"You're children?" He asked, seeking clarification.

"Yup. I had three. I adored them." Soft remembrance came to Harry's face then, thinking about his children. "I outlived all of them."

Just like before with the Lord and Lady, confusion passed between the two who could understand what Harry was saying.

"Little one... You are but a child yourself, how could-" Legolas began, but Harry interrupted.

"I wasn't always an elf," Harry deadpanned before smiling, "I was a wizard before! When I died, I woke up like this here. Very strange. I was old too! Lady Gladdy doesn't know why I'm like this, nor do I, or Lord Celly, but." He ended his explanation with a shrug. "I'm here now, I'm an elf, and I'm happy."

The simple logic of children was really hard to argue with.

"Now teach me more common!" demanded the elfling.

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That night, Aragorn and Legolas decided to talk to the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien.

They entered the room and bowed their heads while saying their greeting.

"You have come to talk about Young Harry," Galadriel began, taking her seat. She had expected this, after all.

"We have," Aragorn took a seat as well, "Earlier, before we attempted to teach him Common—at his behest—we learned some … disconcerting things about the young elf."

"Aye," Celeborn returned, resting his head on his folded hand, "We learned some as well during the breaking of his fast."

Legolas leaned forward in his seat, looking intently at the Lady, "Lady Galadriel… what have you Seen about this young Elf? Is it true that he was… an Istar before?"

There was a long moment of silence as Lady Galadriel sat back in her chair, contemplating what to say.

"Harry was not an Istar," she started, "At least not in the way that we understand them to be. Wherein ever he lived before coming to Arda, he was simply a wizard. Magic was much more prevalent there than in our fields.

"He lived many a year, for his people, and had a happy life." She paused then, eyes not on those before her. "His time was not always happy, nay, it was oft' times quite cruel… However, with how long he prevailed, the good overshadowed the bad."

Her eyes came back into focus on the two members of the Fellowship and she offered them a small smile.

"Harry's mind holds the experiences of one far matured, past even you, our dear Aragorn, but the choices that he will make in the coming days…" She trailed off, her smile growing slowly. "They will be that of a child's."

The males in the room shared a look at that ominous statement. How bad could it be?

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 **AN: EXPOSITION! Also, trying to write the elves sounding all fancy like is … not fun. Thesauruses are my friend. Also—I'm super happy about the response this fic got. Thank you, everyone! Oh, one last note—I am not 100% sure about the minute details of Glorfindel's backstory.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't.**

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Harry rolled over onto his back in his sleep… and his eyes snapped open. He sat up quickly, almost like something from a horror movie, but did so with a giggle, therefore ruining the image. Regardless, Harry managed to scare who he learned was his female caretaker Istimiel as she was bringing in water for him to take a bath.

"Melly!" Harry shouted, crawling to the foot of his bed, eyes riveted on what she was doing. "… Whatcha doing?"

After regaining her composure, the Elleth smiled at the young Elf as she poured out another pitcher of hot water.

"I'm preparing a bath for you," She explained, even though it was quite obvious.

"Another one?" Harry's eyes tracked her as she moved to the door to get yet another pitcher of water.

"Another bath? Yes, little one. Cleanliness is very important, especially for one so young."

Harry blinked a few times and then nodded. That made sense. He scooted off the edge of the bed and started to pull off his night clothes, giving no fucks about his nakedness as he trotted towards the bath.

"Ready yet?" He inquired, watching her still.

"Almost," her reply was sprinkled with laughter, having watched him unabashedly strip.

Once it was filled, Harry raised his arms to her so she could lift him into the tub. The edge was as tall as him so he couldn't get in himself.

Harry remained in the water, playing until it was lukewarm then raised his arms up to be lifted out. Istimiel helped him get dressed and once his shoes were on he bolted out of the room.

"Wait! Harry!" She shouted, lifting her skirts to run after him. "You need to go to—and he's gone."

Harry was unsurprisingly fast for a tiny elf and ran to where he remembered the Fellowship was. Once he was close enough he jumped and landed on Aragorn's back, shouting his greeting, in Common, to the group, who were all eating breakfast.

Having heard the elf—for all that he was fast, he wasn't exactly quiet—Aragorn wasn't surprised and merely chuckled out his reply.

"Whatcha doing Gorny?" Harry clung to the Ranger's back, looking down over his shoulder.

"We are breaking out fast, little one," Aragorn answered, barely grunting from the additional weight.

Harry stared for a moment, scrunching his nose. "You mean breakfast?"

There was a blank look on Aragorn's face. "I do not know this word."

Now it was Harry's turn to have a blank look. "You know. Breakfast. First meal of the day?"

"Oh!" Clarity flashed in Aragorn's eyes. Language barriers.

"Can I have some?" Harry reached out a tiny hand for some food. Legolas looked up curiously.

"You have not eaten yet, young Harry?"

"No. I ran right here after my bath. Well, and clothes." Harry added unnecessarily.

"They are probably looking for you, little one," stated Aragorn, even as he shared his meal with Harry.

Harry took the food and shrugged, "Probably. I don't care. I wanted to come see you all." He nibbled on the bread, looking at the hobbits and Boromir, then Gimli and Legolas. "Let's play a game." He shoved the rest of the food in his mouth and walked over to Legolas, tugging on his sleeve.

"A game?" Legolas took the last bite from his plate and set it aside, getting to his feet at Harry's behest.

"Yeah. Hide and seek." Harry went over to the hobbits and tugged them to their feet too, simply saying, "Game!" to them… in Sindarin. Aragorn helped by translating.

Legolas looked around once Harry had bullied everyone into standing. "And how do we play this?"

"We hide. And you seek." Harry voted Legolas the seeker. "You have to go stand over there and count backwards from 100 so that we have time to hide. Okay?"

Bemused, Legolas agreed and went to do just that. As he began to count, Harry sprinted away.

Since the Company did have freedom in the settlement, they all spread out to find a hiding spot. Harry, having a spark of inspiration as well as knowing how tiny he was, followed his nose to the kitchens. There he stole some fruit from a table and then tucked himself away in a cupboard, behind a giant bag of flour.

It took over an hour for Legolas to find everyone, except Harry. Who he couldn't find period.

"This… is not good…" he confided to Aragorn, "Do you think he went out into the forests?"

Aragorn shook his head, "No, his direction that he ran was inside. We will have to enlist the other elves to help."

And that's how, two hours later and nearing lunchtime, Harry was found, having fallen asleep against the bag of flour.

… … … … … … … …. … … …

* * *

The next morning both of Harry's caretakers were in the room, prepared for him to run again.

"But Berry!" Harry whined at Beriogelir, his male caretaker, "I wanna go play!"

"Apologies, young Harry, but it was decided that you should attend lessons before playing today."

Harry's jaw dropped open wide and he allowed tears to cloud his vision.

"BUT I WANNA PLAY!" He stamped his little foot to really drive his point home, part of him realizing that temper tantrums never worked, but they sure did feel good.

"Harry," Berioglir was firm, looking down at the little elfling, "That behavior is unbecoming of an elf."

"THEN I DON'T WANNA BE AN ELF!" Harry screamed in reply, rushing for the window. He threw it open and took a swan dive over the edge. Istimiel gasped, rushing towards the window—only to see Harry floating to the ground like a feather. Berioglir, who was stunned by Harry's declaration, arrived a second later, just to see Harry dash out of the gardens he had landed in.

"That did not go well," Istimiel's eyes followed Harry before looking up at Beriogelir who nodded in agreement. It really hadn't.

… … … … … … … … … … … … …

* * *

Harry ran until he found some of the Company. He ran straight to Gimli and clung to him, crying onto his shoulder.

The dwarf, shocked, struggled for a moment before resting a gentle hand on the little elf's back, patting it softly.

Legolas, who had been walking with Gimli, knelt down to Harry's height.

"Harry," began the Mirkwood prince, "What's the matter little one?"

Harry turned his blotchy, pouty face to Legolas and sniffled harshly. "I don't wanna be an elf."

Now it was Legolas' turn to be shocked. "Wh-… why is that, little one? You… have always seemed so excited to be one."

The frown on Harry's face became more pronounced.

"They want me to go to lessons instead of playing. I don't want lessons. I don't NEED lessons. I'm 237 years old! I know PLENTY!" Harry buried his head in Gimli's chest again. Gimli who was seriously confused why the young elf was seeking comfort from him. Gimli who couldn't understand anything that was going on.

Hearing the reason eased some of the worries from Legolas' chest and he breathed a soft sigh of relief. "Harry, please, release Gimli."

"No. Dwarves wouldn't make me do lessons. I wanna be a dwarf."

Legolas stifled a laugh, especially as Gimli demanded an explanation and Harry claimed, "Save me from lessons, Weasley Pancake!"

So Legolas explained and Gimli denied Harry's claims.

"Harry, Gimli tells me that even young dwarves would have to attend lessons."

"BUT—"

"Even if they were 237-year-old wizards before. Now they are tiny. Now they are children. And children must learn."

Harry, who had turned away from Gimli to look at Legolas, returned his gaze to Gimli and spat one simple word.

"Traitor."

Then Harry bolted again.

Both Elf and Dwarf were left floundering in his wake.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … …

* * *

This time Harry sought out Aragorn and latched himself onto his legs, crying all over again.

"Child!" Aragorn went down to his knees and hugged the tiny Harry, consoling him to the best of his ability. "Please, what ever is the matter?"

"Weasley Pancake and Lassy are traitors!" wailed Harry, rubbing an eye from his streaming tears.

There was a moment when Aragorn was worried what the elfling could mean, but then he paused. He had no context, and this was a child. They tended to blow things out of proportion, didn't they?

"Why are—," Aragorn hesitated. Weasley Pancake was Gimli, right? Harry had referred to him as such before… "Why are Gimli and Legolas traitors?"

"Because," Harry sniffed, rubbing his nose with his sleeve, "They both said that I need lessons even though I bet I know more than the stupid Weasley Pancake… stupid pancake… I'm two hundred thirty fucking seven years old! I don't NEED Lessons!"

"Harry, you really should not use language like that."

Harry just screamed.

"And!" Aragorn continued once Harry had stopped screaming, "They are right!"

"Not you too!"

"You may know plenty about … wherever you were before, but you need to learn about here. About now. About Arda and the elves. You are an elf, Harry, and you must learn what that means. No one else can teach you but other elves." Aragorn tried to explain this gently, but Harry wasn't having any of it.

"Then –then. Then! I DON'T WANNA BE A FUCKING ELF!" And he ran off from Aragorn as he had everyone else so far.

Aragorn chased after him, but the tiny Elf was quick and seemed to know how to blend into the shadows like a professional and was quickly lost.

Harry for his part sought out the hobbits.

There was a language barrier, but as the hobbits were sitting down for elevenses, they merely shared some food with the young elf and tried to teach him more Common so that they could communicate with each other.

That was the scene that the rest of the Company, even Boromir, came upon. Harry, LEARNING, for all that he'd complained about it before, with all of the hobbits.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … …

* * *

Istimiel was ready for Harry the next morning. She held his hand and led him to the grand hall where all elves shared their morning meal. There, seated amongst his brethren, did they managed to trick him into showing how much he knew.

It quickly became obvious that for all that Harry could speak quite well, he could not read a lick of the language. Harry was dismayed. By the time he'd died before, he could read 5 different languages, excluding Latin, Greek, and Parseltongue, the magic of the language having stuck with him after the Horcrux was gone.

Knowing how important reading was, Harry agreed to attend lessons in the morning, in spite of knowing that he'd been tricked. Just so long as they made it fun! Because he was too old to do boring things.

The elves promised it would be entertaining.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … …

* * *

 **AN: Beriogelir – Male caretaker name. Means Happy Protection. Istimiel – Female caretaker. Means learned one? Or something. This is more of a note for me than y'all.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't. Also—I'm super happy with how many reviews this fic is getting. Thank you, everyone!**

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* * *

Harry rolled over and over and over again on the ground, moving slowly through the courtyard he'd decided to play in for the day. His lessons were over—learning how to read a new language sucked, especially at his age, but it wasn't as hard as he remembered learning Japanese had been at 200—and he didn't know what to do for the afternoon.

He'd gone and found some of the Fellowship, as he'd done before, but didn't really know what to do.

His rolling ended with him on his back at the feet of Boromir, who was having a conversation in Common with Aragorn.

"Boooooorrrrrrrrrryyyyy…." Harry said the nickname slowly. He had decided that Mirry wasn't good because it was too close to Merry, which they already had.

Boromir looked down to the child, recognizing his unfortunate nickname. He spoke, eyes flickering to his companion, who laughed and responded. Harry's eyes tracked their conversation like a tennis match.

"Wow, this must be what it feels like when I talk to Lassy and Gorny," Harry mused, loudly in that uncontrollable child volume, to himself. Then he scrambled to his feet and looked between the two Men.

"Teach me," He declared, slapping his hands against his chest.

The words came mid-sentence for Aragorn and he finished his first one before turning to Harry, "And what would you like us to teach you, little one?"

"No you, Gorny," Harry actually waved him off, fingers fluttering in the Ranger-would-be-King's face. "Borry. I want Borry to teach me something."

Aragorn glanced between Elfling and Man then tried to reason with the child, "But he can't understand what you're saying…"

"Don't care. He can still teach me something." Harry reached forward and grabbed onto Boromir's vest, the Man leaning back with slightly widened eyes. "What can you teach me Borry?"

Even if Harry couldn't understand, he knew that the man was asking Aragorn for help. The Man looked a little afraid of the rather forward Elfling, which pleased Harry greatly for some reason.

As Boromir spoke to Aragorn quickly, Harry took it upon himself to crawl up into the Man's lap, untying and retying the laces of his tunic.

It took nearly 10 minutes of discussion between the two men before they agreed upon something to teach the young Harry.

Aragorn had shot down any ideas Boromir had about combat and swordplay, and instead, they had decided on a joint lesson in plants. Aragorn would teach Harry the Sindarin for the plant, as well as the uses, and Boromir would repeat it in Common. Double exposure and immersion in a useful, subject-based method? Perfect!

Too bad Harry got bored halfway through and fell asleep against Boromir's chest.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … …

* * *

The following days were filled with information and happiness for Harry. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so carefree. Maybe after Lily had been born… No, maybe it was once he had retired and he almost had enough grandkids for his own Quidditch team…

Either way, it felt fucking great, and Harry was loving it.

That's why it was devastating for him when the Fellowship announced that they were leaving Lothlorien.

Sobbing, giant, ugly tears, Harry stood where the company was packing, asking why they had to go NOW and couldn't they just wait ONE MORE DAMN DAY!

Legolas, who had packed the quickest because he couldn't stand watching Harry cry like that, was trying to console the inconsolable.

"Harry, dear one, there is no need to fret," He pet Harry's dark hair, which looked more like a Hobbits with its short, curly length. "We shall see one another again."

"THAT'S BESIDES THE POINNNTTTT, ARSEHOLLLEEE," Harry wailed, unable to control his swearing with his unstable emotions. He even swatted at Legolas' chest ineffectually. "I WANT YOU HERE NOW!"

"But we must continue our journey… This matter is important, for all of the realms."

"IIIIII KNNNOOOWWWWWWWWWWWW!" And Harry did. It had been explained to him. He got it. He knew all about shit like that, having lived through his own forever ago. Did nothing to help him now, however.

Eventually, he was able to control his tears to just a quivering lip and the occasional hiccup. He was clinging to Celeborn's leg as Galadriel bestowed upon each member of the company a gift.

They had all said their goodbyes to Harry, giving the little Elfling a hug before leaving.

Celeborn voiced the question that had been on some members of the Fellowship's minds as they were leaving.

"Harry," he began, holding Harry's small hand as he led the morose child back inside, "Not that I would condone such behavior, however…" Celeborn paused, then forged on with his question. He didn't want to put ideas in the child's head, but he was quite curious as to his answer.

"However, are you not going to demand to go with them? You grew quite close with the entire company while they tarried here in Lorien…"

Harry stopped walking and stared up at the Lord Elf like he was crazy. Or had two heads. Or had two crazy heads.

"What? Are you CRAZY?" He actually had to ask, voice squeaking as it was rough from all of his caterwauling.

"I'm a CHILD," Harry explained to Celeborn as if _CELEBORN_ was the child and not Harry, "They're going on a dangerous adventure! I don't want to go with them, no way, nuh-uh, no thanks.

"I did my grand adventure when I was a child before," he continued, walking forward passed that stunned Elf, "And it was no fun, nuh uh. I do _not_ want to do that again. I am very happy here with all of these awesome elves."

Galadriel came up next to her husband as Harry continued on inside, smiling serenely at him. "Quite reasonable of the child," She teased, voice soft.

"Ai, 'tis surprising, considering how he went on earlier," Celeborn retorted, offering his arm for his Lady and leading her inside as well.

… … … … … … … … … … … … … …

* * *

 **AN: Just a short little thing to try to make me feel better. Boromir section is dedicated to animeromance1972 for suggesting I do something with him since I had for the rest of the Fellowship.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't.**

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* * *

Harry didn't roll this time. He was done rolling, at least for now. No, this time Harry watched. He had managed to evade his caretakers this morning by diving through Beriogelir's legs out the door and down the hall.

He was now in a training area, he thought, at least just by looking at things. It was vaguely reminiscent of the training rooms he'd used back when he was an Auror and the one the family had built for when his grandkids had asked for one.

Hiding up in a tree, Harry continued to watch as a bunch of elves drew their bow and shot. The synchronized 'thump' of all of the arrows brought a soft, awed, "Wow" from the tiny Elfling. Green eyes started to twinkle.

He wanted to do that too.

Harry had always been good with a wand, and being an Auror for what felt like forever had caused his aim to go from good to unholy, so he would probably be good with this too.

But would they let him try?

"Little one."

The sound came from below Harry and he let out a startled shriek, falling from the tree into the arms of the Elf who spoke to him. The elf was way more shocked than the now laughing Harry.

"HI! You're an elf. Elves are awesome. Can you shoot a bow? Can _I_ shoot a bow? Can _you_ show _me_ _how_ to shoot a bow?" The questions came from Harry in a rapid tinkling of bells, his own voice causing Harry to laugh yet again.

"Slow down, little one," The Elf had to chuckle as well, though it was a slightly weak as he situated Harry in a more comfortable hold. "First, pray tell, are you hurt? You fell from rather a distance."

Harry, now perched on the Elf's hip, patting himself down and nodded. Then he patted the elf down and nodded again. "I'm good. You're good too. So, can you?"

Taking a moment to remember the question, the Elf was hesitant to agree.

"How old are you, little one?"

"Well I was 237 when I died, but I'm not sure how old I am now." Harry shrugged, utterly nonchalant. He gave absolutely no fucks about how old he was.

"Well," began the Elf whose name Harry still didn't know—maybe he should rectify that, "When considering how easy the task of carrying you is at this time, I think… you may be too … small… to learn how to shoot a bow."

An epic pout began to form on Harry's face, causing the elf to panic for half a second, "But!" He stalled and Harry paused in his pouting.

"But?" Harry urged.

"But… you can always watch? As long as you remain a safe distance away."

Harry thought about that, tapping his chin with his finger… then his head bounced once in agreement. "Square deal." He held out his hand for a shake. But the elf did nothing. … so Harry slowly took his hand back. "I'm Harry," he decided on instead.

"Mae g'ovannen, Harry," the Elf replied, returning to where he had been before. "I'm Haldir."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

During Harry's next sessions of daily lessons, he demanded to see a calendar of some sort. The brushed off comment from Haldir about how old Harry was bugging him enough that he wanted to know when his birthday was.

Before he had died, his family had kept track of how old he was for him since the years had tended to blur together there towards the end. Despite that, he always remembered his actual birthday, even if he couldn't remember how old he was.

Harry was a little shocked to learn it had just turned February here… What surprised him, even more, was the fact that the names for their months were almost the same. Bigger shock, than one.

Either way, Harry announced to his teacher that his birthday had been July 31st before and he figured it should still be that now, since they clearly had no idea when he was born, seeing as he had woken up as he was.

His attention span was completely shot for the rest of the lesson though as he tried to remember when he died and if there was a lag between the months of death and awakening here…

It took him until dinner time to realize that there may have been a week or so in between.

Knowing that caused the elfling to panic some.

"Whatever is the matter, Harry?" Istimiel asked from beside him at the table, noting his riled state first.

"I… i-.. if…" Harry took a deep breath through his nose and shook his head, basically giving himself a hard restart before trying again, "If I have a missing week between dying and waking up, is my birthday still July 31st!?"

The Elleth took a moment to ponder his question, and how exactly she should answer to help calm his alarm.

"Well," she hedged, "I believe your birthday should be whenever you want it to be." Seeing his mood didn't change with that, she tried another angle, "However… Yes." Harry's anxiety lessened with that, so Istimiel continued, "I am sure your birthday is still as you remember it, dear one."

Harry smiled brightly at that and chirped a, "Thank you!" to her and returned to his meal. Maybe he just didn't remember that week, like… like amnesia or something. He remembered when Al got hit with a spell that caused him to forget everything for two weeks. It was possible that this was something similar.

Istimiel smiled in return, smoothing down Harry's hair before returning to her meal just as the elfling had.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

The next day during Harry's lessons, his head snapped up and to the west, his eyes wide and unblinking. His teacher couldn't get his attention at all. Suddenly, Harry dropped the quill he'd been writing with and ran out of the room without a word.

He dashed through the city until he actually crashed into Galadriel. She let out the faintest of gasps as Harry clung to her legs, eyes sparkling up at her.

"There's strong magic afoot," he giggled up at her, body shaking with energy.

"Oh?" She asked, a fine eyebrow raised.

Harry bobbed his head quickly but didn't say anything more.

"Then we must investigate," Galadriel smiled and offered Harry a hand. He released her legs and took it, following her, even though, somehow, he already knew what had happened.

"You'll figure it out soon enough," Harry skipped along beside her, "And if not, he'll be here soon anyway."

"He?" Galadriel had an idea of what Harry was talking about, but once against, her small inquiry yielded nothing from the tiny elfling. "Then we better prepared."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

 **AN: I recently got two reviews complaining about Harry's childish mentality and how it's cringe-worthy. Guest reviews too, so I can't reply to them and I've never been a big fan of authors who make big notes in their fics, but I understand the sentiment now.**

 **The reason that Harry's mentality is like that of a child is simply a matter of science. His brain is actually not physically developed enough to handle adult reactions. His impulse control is that of a child's too. Plus there are hormones at play too that could cause these reactions. Not to mention the simple fact that he doesn't really give a fuck. He's just rolling with it. He feels like, "yeah, this would be good" and just goes with it.**

 **Whatever, sorry for the rant, I guess.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't.**

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* * *

Harry rolled his writing utensil around his table, wondering if he should stop with rolling… but nah, rolling was fun. He moved his eyes up to the teacher he was supposed to be listening to and then started to look out of the window instead.

This was boring.

He would be here soon, but he wasn't here YET and HE would be interesting. At least, that was the feeling that Harry got. And interesting was fun. Not boring. This was boring.

"Harry, are you listening?" His teacher asked, knowing full well that he wasn't. A fact confirmed by Harry's simple, "No." in response.

"Alas, nothing I teach will interest you today will it?"

"Probably not."

"What if I tell you that we do not have something called a birthday, yet a begetting day? I know you were worried about the date of yours just recently."

Harry let out a hard sigh, sliding his head down onto his folded arms. "Istimiel explained that to me. It's pretty much the same thing and since I wasn't born or conceived, I don't really have one, so I'm going to keep it on July 31st."

His tutor pursed their lips, trying to think of something that could interest their student…

"What… if I told you that the name of the city you are in is not Lothlorien, as you have been calling it, but actually Caras Galadhon."

Opening his mouth to reply, Harry actually paused and thought that over. His head shot up and he slammed his palms onto the table, startling his tutor.

"WHAT!" He demanded, eyes wide in shock. "They're … This—WHAT?!"

The tutor finally smiled, glad to have found something to explain. They then went on to talk about the founding of the settlement and why it was so important to their people.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

Later that day, Harry decided to go seek out Haldir again, because the elf had seemed interesting.

He found him with two other elves and all three were chatting amicably while treating their bows.

Harry walked right up to the group, whose conversation petered out with the appearance of the elfling. Once Harry had their attention, he smiled and waved.

"Hi, Haldir! Who are they?" He pointed to the other two elves, not caring that pointing was rude.

"Hello Little Harry," Haldir set aside his weapon, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "These are my brothers, Rumil and Orophin."

Harry little jaw dropped and he stepped up close to the brothers, right between their legs. "Hi." He spoke softly as if in awe of three brother elves.

Rumil stifled a laugh while Orophin just smiled fondly at the small elf.

"Mae g'ovannen, little one," Rumil placed a hand on the riot that was Harry's hair, amazed at how curly the elfling's hair could be.

Tilting his head to the side, Harry stared up at Rumil.

"Why does everyone keep calling me that?"

Rumil blinked in surprise, glancing to his brothers who had a similar look on their faces.

"Calling you… what, child?"

"That! Little one, child, young one, blah blah blah," Harry leaned against Rumil's leg, but held his hands up and made them flap along with his blahs. "I mean, I guess I understand the little comments, I am tiny compared you all, but…" Here that Epic Pout of his started again. "I'm 237 years old!" Harry couldn't stop himself from stomping his foot along with the pout. "I'm not young…"

"Oh…" Haldir breathed out in response to Harry's answer, watching as the child draped himself over his brother's lap, looking the picture perfect definition of dejection.

"Ch-… Harry," He changed at the last second, "We all possess a great reason for why we affect such adages when addressing you." Hearing this, Harry perked up. "How many years do you think we have all seen?" Haldir gestured with his hand, including his brothers.

Now, Harry had to pause and ponder this question. His little fist came up to cup his chin as he thought, gently pushing Rumil's leg with his body. He tried to bring logic to the equation—he was tiny, yet 237, and they were all big and adults… so they had to be more than he was.

Slowly… Slowly understanding dawned in Harry's big, green eyes. He breathed out his own exclamation, whipping his head around to look at Orophin, and then back to Haldir and Rumil.

"You're all really old, aren't you!? Like. Like… Like a thousand or something?!" Harry was shaking poor Rumil's leg back and forth, but the older elf just accepted it as something that would happen around the small elfling.

Orophin took this moment to speak up, through his laughter, "Or something." He agreed, plucking the child up and setting him on his own leg to save his brother. "The Lord and Lady are both several thousand years old. Each." The last word was added for emphasis and Harry's jaw dropped in shock.

He gaped at the three brothers before slowly closing his mouth, actually rubbing his jaw afterward since the force at which it had fallen was so strong.

"Wow. I had no idea. She doesn't look a day over 2000, I tell ya," Harry quipped lightly, a teasing smile on his face.

The three brothers laughed brightly at his mischief. It was so nice to have an elfling around again.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

It was finally at night when the guest that Harry had mentioned before showed up. Long past Harry's bedtime. He didn't get to meet that person until it was almost lunchtime since that person had to be healed up first.

Harry ran towards where they ate and skid to a stop when he saw the old man standing and talking to Galadriel.

"YOU'RE BACK!" He shouted and pounced on Gandalf's back, arms around the wizard's neck as he hugged him.

Gandalf choked off his surprise, the elfling's arms just a bit too tight, and the Lady Galadriel let out a cheerful laugh at the whole scene.

"Harry, dear child," Galadriel spoke around her laughter, "I do fear that you are choking poor Mithrandir."

"Who? His name is Gandalf, lady."

"And yet his name is also Mithrandir, and he possesses many others, I assure you."

Harry narrowed his eyes at Galadriel and then planted his feet on Gandalf's waist, somehow using it to push himself up and over Gandalf's shoulder to look at the wizard's face.

"You're name is Mithrandir too?" He queried, utterly incredulous.

Gandalf was glad that Harry had released his neck and merely nodded to the elfling, a brushy brow quirked up.

"I have just as many names as you do, Harry James Potter."

Harry fell off of Gandalf in shock, landing on his butt and hands. He'd never told anyone his last name or middle name. Always just Harry. How did-…?

Galadriel jerked forward when Harry fell so suddenly but was unable to catch him due to her own astonishment at what Gandalf had called their little elfling.

"Mithrandir… Do you…?" She allowed her question to trail off, not quite sure what she wanted to ask but wanting more information nonetheless.

A playful smile stretched over Gandalf's face and he leaned casually on his staff, giving a single nod to the Lady.

"Come, let us eat first. Then we can go discuss matters. Young Harry has come to feast, after all," Gandalf motioned for them to sit and eat, which they did.

During the whole meal, Harry squirmed almost uncomfortably, curious as to how Gandalf knew his name—and why he felt like he had been scolded. Probably because the wizard had used his full name. Ginny always used to do that… and Hermione… and Lily… Actually, a lot of women in his life had done that to him…

By the time they had retired to a private room, joined only by Celeborn, Harry was feeling quite down and had been picked up and deposited onto the Lord's lap, hoping that the elf's calming presence would sooth the young elfling's mood.

The following conversation explained exactly what had happened to Gandalf since he had not been able to explain much while he was being healed. Gandalf also shared some crucial information about their dear elfling that they hadn't known before.

"Lord Namo himself is the one who sent Harry here to us," Gandalf began, puffing on his pipe as he told his tale. "He wanted me to share, with you all, and Harry, a little about why he was sent here."

Hearing his name, Harry lifted his head from Celeborn's chest that he was leaning against, but only just so he could turn it and lean again, eyes now locked onto the White Wizard.

"Our little elfling had been quite the important person in the world he was in before coming to Endor," Harry's brow creased in confusion, before remembering that, apparently, just like Gandalf and he did, Middle Earth also had several names, "Namo could only hold onto him for barely a day before sending him on once more.

"He believed that someone who will be as long-lived as Harry should be with people just as long-lived as him. He had just enough time to reshape Harry into the elfling we see before us and put him somewhere where he could be brought to an elven settlement, post haste.

"Though," Gandalf stopped here to wheeze out a laugh, "He does apologize for the place he chose." It was supposed to be a little joke, and Harry's mouth twitched up a little.

"Lord Namo explained that he could not reshape someone of Harry's age into a mere babe, and that is why he came to us at this age," Gandalf gestured to the age that Harry appeared, "He is, however, unsure of exactly how old Harry is now."

"I'm 237," Harry whispered the words so quietly, it was only the elven ears and by chance that they all heard it.

Gandalf smiled at Harry and nodded his head, "Of course," he began, "it is well that you know, Harry." No one mentioned how by elven standards, at 237, Harry would be into his second cycle; his adulthood.

Harry's smile grew a little bit more at Gandalf's words, however.

"Did Lord Namo say… why exactly Harry was sent here?" Celeborn posed the question that Harry had been thinking but couldn't bring himself to ask. He turned a bigger smile up to the elf who held him, then turned back to hear the answer.

"Aye," Gandalf nodded, drawing on his pipe and exhaling before responding, "And if young Harry thinks on about it long enough, he will come upon the answer himself."

Galadriel scowled at this, but her expression smoothed out within seconds.

Harry adopted a thinking pose, but he only held it for a short while. He didn't want to think right now and just grabbed the arm that was loosely holding him and hugged it to his chest like one would a toy.

When Gandalf opened his mouth to say more, Celeborn cut him off with his free hand.

"I think that is enough for now, Mithrandir. Please, continue with my dear wife, but I shall retire for now and take young Harry with me. Excuse us," Celeborn carefully took his arm back and turned Harry so he could carry him a bit easier, then left the room.

Snuggling into the robed shoulder, Harry allowed himself to be babied because he had worked himself into such a morose mood, he couldn't leave it, even with the small jokes everyone kept directing at him.

Celeborn brought Harry back to his rooms, humming the whole way, and once there, he sat on Harry's bed and sang softly to the small elfling.

As Harry drifted off into a nap, mood lifting slightly from the song, Celeborn decided that he may nap as well, seeing as he was being used as a bed.

The pair woke for a quiet dinner, enjoyed in Harry's rooms before Harry went to sleep on his own, a pillow hugged to his chest.

The next morning, Harry woke in a much better mood and was even able to see Gandalf off.

Before the wizard left, Harry asked him one question.

"Did Namo say how much of my magic I would have? Because I've used it a few times, but it's tiring," the thought made Harry pout, thinking about how easy magic had been before his death.

"He did not, I'm afraid," Gandalf leaned on his staff as he spoke, "I imagine, however, that the magic is tiring because you are, as an elfling, still remarkably young Harry."

Harry opened his mouth… then closed it with a frown. Finally, he nodded.

"Okay," he simply stated, accepting it for what it was. He then gave Gandalf's legs and waist a hug before skipping off to go bug some elves. He waved over his shoulder, "Bye bye Alfy!"

Gandalf, the newly minted Alfy, blinked wide in surprise and then laughed. The power of youth, to recover like that and then the nickname? Harry really was an adorable elfling.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

 **AN: Thank you, everyone, for your kind words after my rant lol. It's great to know that so many people have my back or agree with me, including some guest reviewers. ^^ I have read all of the reviews and they are very encouraging. PS: Harry's reaction about Lothlorien was** **MY** **reaction when I found that out. Also, thank you to Deathherselfie for telling me about Begetting day.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't.**

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* * *

Harry skidded down the hall, falling to his knees and tucking into a roll to reduce damage. He then sprung back to his feet and started to run again.

Running through the halls wasn't that unusual for Harry. The fact he was stark naked was, however.

"HARRY!" Beriogelir yelled as he chased after the surprisingly tiny elfling. "GET BACK HERE." It was the angriest anyone had ever seen the ellon.

"NO!" Harry shouted over his shoulder, feet making soft slapping noises on the floor as he tried to think of where (or who!) would hide him. "I REFUSE!" He added as panic began to creep in.

"WE JUST WANT TO BATHE YOU!" The elf muttered some things that Harry couldn't hear, but he figured they were curses-and he wished he had heard them. He knew plenty of curses in his own language (and the few he'd learned over the years) but this was a new language! A whole new set of swear words to learn!

"DON'T CARE!" Harry screeched back, skidding once more as he saw his female caretaker trying to block his way at the end of that hall. "Merlin's saggy balls! They're fucking everywhere!" He skidded again, changing directions.

The other elves looked on with amusement. It had been much too long since an elfling had gone streaking through their city. Despite Harry's obvious panic for some reason, they only felt joy because he was an elfling.

Which was quite cruel, wasn't it? They didn't stop to help the caretakers, nor stop to help Harry.

Well, that was good for Harry as he dove into a group of elleths, smiled at them, then jumped for a tree branch and began climbing.

Istimiel was the first to reach the group, slowing down with a few puffs of breath as she watched Harry's white butt disappear into the leaves.

"There will be no getting him down now," she muttered, folding her arms over her chest in a huff.

"What is the matter, Istimiel?" one of the elleths from the group asked.

"Our precious elfling," her tone denoting exactly what she felt about her charge, "has decided to refuse his bath this morn." She gestured sharping up to the tree, "He has not partaken in that particular ritual in nearly a week." Frustration and anger were vented through flared nostrils, a deep breath taken afterward to try to calm her nerves.

Beriogelir showed up at that moment, eyes looking up at the tree with a similar expression as Istimiel. "He has gone into the canopy?" While it was inflected like a question, he knew the truth before asking.

"He has," Her confirmation caused the male caretaker to let out a weary sigh.

"Will you go after him, or shall I?" He looked to her, utterly resigned.

"You went last time, Beriogelir, I will this time." She took a moment to readjust the skirts and robes she wore before climbing up into the tree after Harry.

Sadly, Harry was a much better climber than his two caretakers, acting more like a squirrel than an elf within the branches, and he was long gone off to another part of the city via the canopy of branches.

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* * *

Harry found his way back to the shooting range via the trees, making himself comfortable as he watched Haldir and others practicing with his brothers. It seemed that they were having a competition of sorts.

Getting so into the competition, he forgot that he was hidden when he let out a big cheer once the winner had been announced, startling a few elves who were also watching. Harry himself went wide-eyed and lifted a small branch in front of his face to try to hide again.

Alas, he had been spotted now and Haldir, with Rumil tagging along, quickly made their way towards where he had stashed himself.

"Little one," Rumil laughed as he saw Harry's lack of dress, "Where are your clothes?"

Harry, shining a beautiful pink down to his shoulders, smiled, shy, before grinning like a proud prankster. "My room."

Both brothers laughed now, settling onto the branches-and joined shortly by the third brother.

"I meant, 'why are they not on your body?' Are you not cold?"

"Oh. Melly and Leery wanted to give me a bath, but I don't wanna take one. I took one last week," Harry paused here to give himself a sniff. The ACTUAL smell that wafted to him gave him pause. "Okay, yeah, maybe I need a bath," he shrugged as he continued, "But I didn't wanna, so I ran away."

Rumil was mouthing the two names that Harry had said to himself, curious as to who they actually were-he didn't keep up with the gossip enough to know who had been nominated as his caretakers.

"Is there any particular reason as to why you do not wish to bathe, young Harry?" Orophin queried with a tilted head.

Harry paused to think about this. Was there a reason why? As per usual when Harry went into deep thought about his changed psyche, he cupped his chin and adopted a thinking pose.

Surprise showed on his face, followed by a delicate little shrug. "No," he chirped, "No reason. I think I just wanna be difficult. I know it's childish, but I'm a kid now, so." And he shrugged again.

All three brothers smiled at Harry's well-reasoned answer. Haldir had an idea, however, and leaned over to Rumil to share it. Rumil's eyes went up towards his hairline in shock.

"Really, dear brother? Do you think that wise?"

"If all three of us go, it should be fine." Haldir waved off Rumil's concern and dropped from the tree. "Keep him occupied," was whispered before he vanished.

Harry barely noticed since Orophin had started Harry on a weird patty-cake-like-game that was ridiculously fun.

By the time Haldir returned with some packs, Harry was sitting between Rumil and Orophin, playing the game and listening to a story at the same time.

"Brothers!" Haldir called up into the tree, "Come! The lord expressed his worry; however agreed with my idea nonetheless." He grinned at his success, pulling out a tunic that he tossed to Orophin.

It was Harry-sized.

Orophin stopped the game and motioned towards Harry. "Do you need help-" His words cut off as Harry grabbed the clothes himself and yanked them over his head.

"We going somewhere?" Harry asked, snatching the pants from Rumil, who had caught them after Haldir tossed them as well.

"Yes, Harry," Haldir answered from the ground, putting down the packs and holding out his arms. Harry, understanding, dropped right into them with a squeal of delight. "I thought you might enjoy seeing outside of Caras Galadhon for a change. It has been quite some time since you have been outside of our trees."

Harry's little mouth dropped open in happy surprise. "Really?!" He asked, breathless. "Truly!?" Haldir nodded an affirmative and Harry squealed once more, hugging the man who still held him tightly.

Once Harry released Haldir, he leaned back and asked, "Did you bring me shoes too?"

Haldir merely laughed.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

Even though they weren't going very far from the gates, the brothers elected to travel by horse, simply so that, if need be, they could return quickly.

Harry rode with Orophin, the three horses riding abreast of each other, though naturally Harry and Orophin were in the middle.

When the horses stopped, Harry was in awe of the nature that surrounded them. It was a small waterfall and stream with a pond, not quite a lake, where they could swim around and play.

Scrambling to get down, Haldir had dismounted first and caught Harry before he could fall from Orophin's saddle.

"Calm, little one," he laughed, "You are quite excitable, aren't you?"

"Yes," Harry agreed with a nod, despite knowing it had been a rhetorical question.

Rumil was just amused that Haldir's plan was working.

Orophin got off his horse as Haldir was setting Harry on the ground. Harry was the first to strip his clothes right back off again, running to the pond and belly flopping into it.

All the brothers jerked, worried, but all sighed in relief when Harry resurfaced with a shout of joy.

Haldir went to one of the packs on his horse and pulled out a bag of washing oils and set them next to the lake, before stripping down himself. Rumil and Orophin quickly joined their brother and the tiny elfling in the water.

The four elves swam and played for a long time before Haldir finally managed to get Harry washed. Even if it was in a pond and not a bathtub, at least he was clean now.

They ate a small meal there and Harry was falling asleep against Orophin as they made their way back to Caras Galadhon.

Rumil got the honor of carrying Harry to his room, where Celeborn was waiting patiently for the elfling's return.

Harry was passed off to the Lord of Lothlorien who proceeded to change Harry into bed clothes and tuck him in.

Celeborn gently brushed the now clean, yet still unruly black hair from Harry's face and leaned down to press a kiss to his temple.

He wished Harry a good night, spotting Galadriel in the doorway of Harry's room as he went to leave.

"You care for him a great deal," She observed unnecessarily. Celeborn simply agreed, bowing his head. He offered her an arm so that he could escort her back to their rooms.

"He won't be able to stay here," Galadriel added after several minutes of comfortable silence.

"I know," Celeborn replied, keeping his gaze forward.

Galadriel looked over to her husband, assessing him for a brief moment before turning back forward with a smile on her face.

"My greatest desire for Harry is that he is happy here as well, my love, and I shall help you with that endeavor."

Celeborn smiled serenely. Of course, she would pick up on what he was thinking.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

 **AN: Is the ending awkward? It feels a little awkward lol. Also, I have very little (mentally) to go on for what Caras Galadhon looks like—I've Googled images and reads Wikis/descriptions, but I'm pretty much just winging it. Forgive me.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't.**

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* * *

Harry was rolling down a flight of stairs. There were so many of them in Caras Galadhon, that it was an easy thing for him to do. Not exactly comfortable, but he'd wrapped himself up in his blanket, unraveling it as he went down the stairs.

At the end of his blanket, he kept rolling until he came to a stop against a pair of legs clad in fine leather boots.

His eyes looked straight up into a new face and Harry's own lit up with a huge grin.

"NEW PEOPLE!" He shouted and whoop, tossing himself up to his feet and grabbing at the traveling robes of the person before him. "HI, I'M HARRY, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?" Was Harry swearing just for the hell of it? Yes. Yes, he was.

The new person, while surprised at his crude language and manner of greeting, was well used to kid's antics and merely returned that enthusiasm with a happy smile.

"Mae g'ovannen, Harry," He ran a hand through Harry's wild locks, finding that the hairstyle suited this elfling quite well. "My name is Elrond. My companion," Elrond's other hand motioned to the tall, blond elf beside him that Harry had just now noticed, "is Glorfindel."

"Odin's bushy beard, you're GLOWING!" The pointed finger Harry leveled at Glorfindel was almost accusatory, his other hand still clutching Elrond's clothes.

Glorfindel was just as unfazed by Harry as Elrond had been. "I am," he agreed cordially, "It 'tis something all elves do, little one."

Harry's head tilted like a bird. He looked up at Elrond and then down to his own hand.

"HOLY SHIT!" He moved his hand far away from his face as if seeing it for the first time. In fact, "HOW DID I NOT NOTICE THIS BEFORE!?" Harry spun in a little circle before coming to lean back against Elrond's legs. "Elves glow." He stated this new mind-blowing fact in a soft voice and finally, Elrond had to chuckle.

Glorfindel joined in on the laughter until the sound was broken by a male's voice calling out for Harry.

Harry 'eep'ed' and jumped behind Elrond, hiding within his traveling robes.

"Hide me!" he hissed, trying to make himself as small as possible.

Berigolir had spotted Harry as he had made the dash to hide and had opened his mouth in reprimand when he actually noticed who it was that Harry was using as a shield. Then with a click, he shut his mouth.

"Lord Elrond!" The elf was at least able to recover quickly, "And Lord Glorfindel! Welcome, has her lady been…?" He let the sentence hang, his composure lacking because: Harry.

"She has," Elrond replied magnanimously.

Harry peeked around a leg that was part of his human shield, noting how his caretaker was treating said shield. 'Lord, eh?' thought Harry, inspecting the legs in front of him.

For his part, Glorfindel was amused by the whole thing.

With the merest of falters, Berigolir mustered himself up and excused his behavior to Elrond then simply reached into the Lord's traveling robes and grabbed Harry by the arm.

Considering this wasn't something Harry could have ever expected, he gasped as the hand wrapped around his arm and hauled him out. He was shocked into silence for a whole 10 seconds as he was stood in front of Berigolir before Harry decided to just scream.

The male caretaker, afraid that he had managed to hurt the small elfling, immediately released him.

Harry stopped screaming and bolted.

Berigolir groaned, "Every time..." and then offered a small bow to the two lords and proceeded to chase down Harry once more.

The two lords shared a long moment between them, Elrond's face cracking first with his smile.

"He most certainly is quite the interesting elfling. Quite like your sons," observed Glorfindel, a grin tugging at one corner of his mouth.

Elrond laughed out loud, unable to deny it.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

That night, before it was time for the evening meal, Celeborn went to fetch Harry, carrying a small bundle with him.

Harry was entertaining himself by laying on the floor and reading-or, rather, attempting to read-a book. When his door opened he rolled to his side and flashed a bright grin at Celeborn before returning to his book. Learning to read this language he could now speak was difficult.

Celeborn quietly entered the room, heading towards Harry's bed so he could lay out the bundle.

"Harry," He called once he was finished. Said elfling's head whipped around first before his body followed, jumping up to his feet so he could dash towards the Lord of the settlement. Not that Harry treated him like that at all, what with how he smashed his body into Celeborn's legs, laughing as he hugged the elf.

A gentle smile pulled at Celeborn's features, his fingers brushing through Harry's hair, similarly to how Elrond had earlier, but much more... tenderly.

"I have brought you new clothes," began Celeborn, only to be interrupted by Harry.

"Again!?"

"Yes, again," Celeborn continued without missing a beat. "We are hosting very important quests this evening. I have heard that you have already made their acquaintance." A fine brow arched a bit, the only thing that showed he had a question in there somewhere.

Harry's answer was an unrepentant grin.

"I rolled into his legs. Elrond, I think, is what Leery called him."

"You roll-...?" The sentence was lost as Celeborn shook his head. He was better off not knowing. Harry's rolling about was well known around Caras Galadhon. "Nevermind," Celeborn let out a huff of a sigh, "These clothes have been done in a much more elegant fashion."

Harry, who hadn't let go of Celeborn's legs, turned to look at the clothes. Slowly, he detached himself and fingered the fine threads. They were stirring a few memories in him. He always wore nice clothes like this at his kids' weddings, as well as his own. His countenance showed all of these memories, which felt bittersweet to him now.

Celeborn sat on the bed next to the outfit, reaching out to tuck away some of Harry's hair.

"I have come to help you into them since the cloth makers went quite overboard with the design. Will you allow me to help, Harry?"

"Hmm?" Harry looked up, eyes glassy with unshed tears that his body couldn't stop from forming. A few rapid blinks and they were gone and he smiled. "Okay!" And he held up his arms for Celeborn.

It took nearly 15 minutes, as the clothes were rather intricate, but afterward, Harry looked like a tiny little elven prince. ...Except for the hair, that hair still made him look a bit like a hobbit.

Celeborn, who had come to the room in his own splendor, was very pleased with the results. He also noticed how similar Harry's outfit looked to a few of the robes that he owned, something that also made the lord happy.

Wanting to see what his new outfit looked like, Harry went running for the mirror in his room once Celeborn had released him. He did a few twirls in front of the mirror, allowing actual giggles of happiness to escape.

"Wow, Marigold would love this," he whispered under his breath, not even thinking. The memories were happy this time though and Harry returned to Celeborn with a smile still on his face.

Celeborn offered a hand to Harry, which he took, and the pair went to the dining halls together.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .. ... ... ...

* * *

In the dining halls, Harry wanted to run off to go see the few elves he'd managed to get close to, but Celeborn's firm grip on his hand didn't allow him to stray.

He pouted, as epically as possible, but Celeborn bore with it admirably-as someone who was his age could-actually finding it precious and smiled at the elfling. Harry's pout grew and he pushed his whole body against Celeborn's leg to express his displeasure.

"You may see them on the morrow, young Harry," Celeborn explained as he brought Harry to the table he and Galadriel usually sat at, a table that was also hosting their guests. Usually, Harry would hop between tables every day-sometimes several times in a night, wanting to see and talk to as many elves as possible.

"Fine," huffed Harry, swinging Celeborn's arm before finally being released when they were close enough. Harry ran to his chair and scrambled up to it. Elrond, watching the small elf struggling, shot a look at both Celeborn and Galadriel. Much was said in that one look, and the one in return explained much more. Just how independent their new elfling was.

Glorfindel queried if Harry needed help, but Harry gave a grunt and then was kneeling on the chair with a grin. "I got it," Harry declared with pride, "I don't need any help." Then he turned those big, green eyes on to Glorfindel who leaned back the tiniest amount at the intense stare.

"Hi. Are you old like them?" Harry pointed at Galadriel and Celeborn, the latter raising a hand to cover his mouth, hiding the smile and coughed laugh.

The Golden elf arched a golden eyebrow. He shared his own look with the other quiet ancient elves at the table and then nodded. "I was born before the First Age," he claimed, figuring it would explain it all.

It didn't. Harry had no idea what that meant.

So he stared for a bit, then blinked a few times, then turned to Celeborn and tilted his head, confusion blatant on his face.

The stifled laugh from before came back as Celeborn explained exactly how long ago that was and finishing up with, "He would have seen just as many ages past as Galadriel."

"Would have?" Harry immediately picked up on the wording.

"Ah," Celeborn stated and yet again the 'adults' shared a look. Harry would be angry, but he used to do that with Ginny, and then later Lily, James, and Al, so he had no right to be hypocritical. ... but it did bug him a bit.

"Little one," Elrond picked up the tale, "Lord Glorfindel died fighting a Balrog and spent many years remaining in the Blessed Lands before coming back to us during the Second Age." His intense gaze looked into the green eyes that bored into his own, "Just like you."

Harry's eyes snapped wide and he turned to look at Glorfindel again. For the longest time he didn't blink, just stared at the Golden born-again elf. Then Harry flashed a brilliant smile and patted Glorfindel on the arm.

"We're the same," he declared, his smile turning impish, "Does that make us like brothers?"

An elf who had been eavesdropping at a nearby table snorted, choking on the water they had been drinking.

"I've always wanted a brother," Harry continued, the amused look on his face showing that he knew exactly the effect his words were having on those who could hear him, "I was an only child, you know, because Mum and Dad died protecting me," He dropped this truth bomb for those who didn't know, "And even though I had a big family of kids, it's not the same as a brother."

Harry grew thoughtful, then smiled once more, "Can I call you brother, Feeny?"

Glorfindel was frozen for a mere moment because he simply didn't know which part of that question to address first.

As he had no idea how to hand the actual question, he went with, "Feeny?"

The smallest hint of sadness flashed through Harry's eyes when the question of a family went unaddressed, but he replied nonetheless.

"Yeah!" enthused Harry, "I give everyone I like a nickname. Like Lassy, Borry, Leery, Melly, Gorny, Weasley Pancake, Doddy... Alfy," He marked off a finger as each nickname went by. Celeborn tried not to look disappointed about his lack of a nickname.

Galadriel picked up on it though, and interrupted the elfling, "What about us, dear child? You bestowed a name upon the esteemed Lord Glorfindel so quickly, yet my husband and I have yet to receive ours."

Harry stopped, mouth wide open, one finger on another as he froze. Then he stopped and looked at them. He slowly closed his mouth, dropped his hands, and looked to his lap. He was unnaturally quiet for the little hurricane that was called Harry, and for a moment they were worried he was sad, but as his ears started to turn pink, they realized he was embarrassed about something.

"Do not fret, little one," Celeborn said, dropping a hand on Harry's unruly mop, "It is not something we require. In fact, we already have more than enough names in several languages." Harry looked up through his hair at Celeborn and smiled. He didn't share his thoughts, not yet. Not here, anyway.

"What," interrupted Elrond, hoping to change the atmosphere a bit, "would you call me?"

Harry turned to look at the Lord of Rivendell and tilted his head. When Celeborn moved to take his hand back, Harry had grasped onto his sleeve and not let him leave, much to the other's amusement.

"Uhhhhhh..." Harry hesitated and then shrugged, "Iunno. Maybe Elly. Or maybe just Ronny." That made him giggle. One of his grandchildren had always called Ron 'Ronny'. "Maybe El-el?" He looked up to the canopy, tilted his head back and just shrugged again.

With the happier atmosphere returned, they went about eating a delicious dinner.

Afterward, they retired to some rooms for a private conversation, one that Harry wasn't privy to, having been put to bed by Istimiel.

Not that he stayed there for long.

Once his caretaker was gone, Harry jumped out of bed and dove out the window. His magic answered the danger of his swan dive and helped him reach a tree. There, Harry climbed until he was reasonably close to where he assumed the adults were talking about him.

He was right.

For the most part.

The first thing that Harry heard was them talking about a sword and going to meet up with Aragorn, but then the conversation turned to why Glorfindel was there.

"Young Harry will need a guardian," Elrond was speaking, "And I wanted to suggest our Lord Glorfindel for that role."

At first, Glorfindel had been shocked at the suggestion-he had always concerned himself more with the warriors in Rivendell and fighting than with the domestic pursuit of a family. But when Harry's circumstances had been explained to him, Glorfindel understood why he had been suggested.

Galadriel understood as well and actually nodded her approval, but turned to her husband with a look of concern.

Celeborn's face was impassive as he spoke. "I knew Harry would not stay. He is happy here, but our elves are not as... suited for the rearing of an elfling. At least not anymore; it has simply been too long. Harry will be happier at the Last Homely House."

Reaching out her hand, Galadriel gave a gentle squeeze Celeborn's forearm.

"I will miss the elfling," Celeborn's face soften with his smile. "He has a way of endearing himself to everyone he meets, even our illustrious March Warden has allowed him the ridiculous moniker of 'Dir-dir'." Celeborn still had to a chuckle at that.

Harry, in his tree, smirked. He knew he was really testing the waters when he nicknamed the three brothers.

"I must admit to some shock at how many names he has given to those he has met," Glorfindel recalled, "Does he know...how personal nicknames are?"

Celeborn answered with a fond shake of his head. "Harry has very little insight into our traditions. We have been teaching him what we can, but he tends to lack interest. There has been many a time when he does something so very... Man-ish... that it is startling, but you must remember-" He paused to look Glorfindel and Elrond seriously, "Harry was a Man before coming to us. A wizard, in all honesty, but quite unlike our Istari."

"Lord Namo himself changed Harry," Galadriel went on to explain what Gandalf had told them before.

In the end, both elves that resided in Rivendell were thoughtful. Out in his tree, Harry was thoughtful too.

He had forgotten what Gandalf had said about knowing what had caused this. Digging deep into his memories, he missed the next part of the conversation that spoke about the war and only barely heard that Glorfindel would lend his sword to their aid if needed, even though he was going to try to form a bond with Harry.

"What do you think about his request about calling you Brother, Glorfindel?" Elrond asked his friend, Harry tuning back into the conversation.

Glorfindel let out a dignified huff through his nose, just barely able to suppress his desire to roll his eyes. "It is a small connection to lead to such a title," he claimed, "But one I may grant him, with time. If I am to be his guardian, a familiar title such as 'brother' would not be amiss." He then turned his bright, keen eyes onto to Celeborn. "What name do you think Harry had thought of for you?"

"I surely could not tell you," Celeborn replied, turning away as all present moved to look at him.

"Whatever it was that he thought of caused him some embarrassment. His ears were such a fetching shade of pink," Galadriel tittered like an old gossip, happy to tease her husband. Elrond and Glorfindel joined with their own chuckles.

"Husband, dearest," Galadriel continued, "I know how much you care for Harry. And he will return one day to us here, as he will travel to all of the elven settlements to learn." She leaned over and put her hand on his arm once more, "Give him a name. And maybe he will tell you yours."

Just as Harry so often did, Celeborn dropped into his own thoughtful pose. Then he gave a firm nod-it was a sound idea.

"Does Harry have any name other than Harry?" Elrond asked, finding the name odd, even for a Man.

"In his world, he did," Galadriel replied, "But we only know of one. Harry James Potter."

The discussion turned boring for Harry again, so he curled up in the tree he was in and decided there was as good of a place to sleep as any.

A few hours later he was roused when he felt someone lifting him from the tree and then eventually, later, placing his back into someplace soft. Harry's arms sought something to hold and found something soft and warm to his side. Harry clung to it, falling back into a deep sleep.

Celeborn, who was once more being used as a cuddle toy by Harry, just began to sing softly to the elfling, petting his hair as he did.

... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

 **AN: The nickname comment by Glorfindel was shared to me by Deathherselfie, who has been a great help in talking out this fic. Thank you! Hope you all like where this is going~**

 **AN2: I just finished posting this into the doc, and I went, "Damn! That got long!" Because I wrote this in emails to myself over several days, I had no idea what the word count was at lol.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't.**

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* * *

Harry watched the rock he kicked roll across the ground. How it got up here in the giant tree houses they seemed to mostly live in, he didn't know, but he didn't care either. He continued to walk towards it, kick it, and watch it roll.

It had been a few days since Elrond had left and Glorfindel had stayed. Glorfindel who still wouldn't answer Harry's question about whether or not he could call him 'brother'.

Harry was super salty about it.

Currently, he had finished lunch, finished his lessons, and was just going for a little stroll. Glorfindel had decided to accompany him, doing nothing but watching the little elfling. He wasn't even trying to engage him in conversation! Harry was grumpy and bored and it was all Glorfindel's fault.

No more Feeny. Only Glorfindel. Glorfin-butthead!

His mood was reflected in his next kick, a bit of accidental magic flaring as well. It sent the rock careening through the air and towards one of the giant trees. Thankfully, it didn't come out the other side, but it did get lodged a far way in.

Harry stopped and stared. Then he turned slowly to look at Glorfindel. A finely arched golden eyebrow was his only response.

"Uhhhhh..." Harry so eloquently put before dashing off. Glorfindel reacted, giving chase, but he skidded to a stop when Harry dove off of the edge of a balcony and basically flew to a faraway tree that he then climbed and disappeared into.

It was a long time before Glorfindel did anything, staring at the spot Harry had vanished.

"Now I understand what poor Berigolir meant..."

... ... ... ... .. ... .. ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

Harry resurfaced around dinner time. He had taken a seat at the table that led closest to the kitchens, happily chatting with the elves who worked with making the food. Eavesdroppers found that Harry had apparently spent the afternoon with them and some of the loaves of bread at the tables had actually been made BY the elfling.

They couldn't tell which they were, much to their consternation.

Glorfindel sat with Celeborn and Galadriel again, swirling his wine as he watched Harry. The Lady of Lorien looked amused.

"No luck, Glorfindel?" She asked, unable to help herself anymore.

Those keen eyes of his turned to regard her, before huffing. "He is unlike any child-of Man or Elf or Dwarf-that I have ever met before."

Celeborn let out a snort that somehow sounded elegant. "That is putting it mildly."

"From what I have seen," The way Galadriel said that word made it sound like there was almost a capital letter on it, "he was rather unique before coming to us as well."

The Golden Elf had a distinctly unhappy look on his face. "He has decided to not speak with me. All day, he has avoided me. Apparently, he was in the kitchens."

"Ahh, yes," Celeborn nodded, interrupting himself to take a sip of wine. "He does like to venture in there and help the cooks occasionally. His cooking is ... different."

"Be that as it may, how am I supposed to bond with Harry-to be his guardian-if he will not even speak to me?" It was obvious that Glorfindel had grown frustrated. It had been nearly 3 days of complete silence from the elfling.

"We cannot tell you, Glorfindel," Galadriel explained, "that is part of becoming a parent."

Glorfindel's thoughts were decidedly unpleasant in light of her 'advice'.

... ... ... ... ...

* * *

The next morning saw the Golden Elf waiting for Harry to wake in his rooms, yet again. It was something he'd done nearly every day since Elrond's departure.

Harry went from dead asleep to wide awake in a second. He lifted his head and looked around the room with a little moan. His curls, which were a riot on a normal day, were ridiculous today. Those green, green eyes of his narrowed in suspicion before landing on Glorfindel. Then Harry groaned and curled back up into his plushy toy, mumbling something into the pillow before screaming, "NO!" into its softness.

Jumping to his feet on the bed, Harry threw the stuffed toy at Glorfindel with another screamed, "NO!" clearly in the midst of a temper tantrum. "I REFUSE!" Stomping his foot, he bounced on the bed before jumping from it and going to the window. "No no no no NOPE!" And he jumped.

Having experienced Harry's jumping and running from him before, Glorfindel merely sighed.

In the doorway stood Istimiel with a bucket of hot water. "My lord," She bowed her head and brought the water in, several more elves carrying water coming after her. "I would suggest trying to find him. It has been a while since his last bath."

"I would not even know where to begin looking." He muttered, tossing the toy back to the bed. "I doubt he will return for his bath," he addressed all the elves in the room, "No use in wasting the water here." and waved a hand to dismiss them.

Istimiel sighed, setting down her bucket and nodding to her fellows to do as Glorfindel said.

"My lord," Istimiel began, "For all that Harry claims to be '237'," the number said in the same tone Harry would adopt when reminding others about his age, "He is still an elfling. And a young one at that. He needs boundaries, rules, guidelines... If you are to be his guardian, you have to be the one to make these decisions.

"He will fight you on this, most likely," she took a step forward as she explained, "Because Harry likes to fight about many a little thing. However, you have to be firm with him-though..." She held up a finger, "Not too firm. He is still an elfling.

"Learning the balance between too firm and too gentle will take time," Istimiel gestured with her hands in such a way that it could almost be a shrug, "I have faith in you." She then dipped her head and excused herself.

Glorfindel sat there, pondering everything that she had said... She wasn't wrong. That didn't mean he was pleased.

... ... ... ...

* * *

There was one place that Harry liked to avoid, at times, but because people knew he liked to avoid it... maybe it would be a good place to hide from Glorfin-butthead.

Harry presented himself, sans shoes, to the clothier. She took one look at him, and the leaves in his hair, and tutted. Mumbling under her breath, she set down what she was currently working on and moved to get a wet cloth to clean off the elfling.

Once he was washed, she raised an eyebrow at him.

"May I?" She asked. Harry grinned.

... ... ... ...

* * *

When he turned up for dinner that night, he was wearing a brand new set of play clothes. The colors were brighter than what Harry usually preferred to wear (he liked the muted colors since he was a dirty elfling) and his hair had been pulled up into the tiniest, most adorable pigtails.

Several elves were swooning.

When the story rippled through that Harry had apparently done them to himself, it was even worse.

The way his rebellion of curls pulled into the perfect little sections of almost buns on the top of his head was ridiculous. Elves were struck dumb with how cute it was.

Celeborn was staring, not focused at all on what he moved to his mouth to eat. He wanted to commit that image to his memory, for some reason. Amidst his staring, he was still able to discern the conversation going on around him.

"He ran from me again today," Glorfindel was explaining to Galadriel. "Apparently, I am allowing him too much freedom." So he was a little resentful about the reprimand from Istimiel, for all that she was correct.

"In general, we all allow him quite a bit of freedom," Galadriel agreed. "Mayhaps he would benefit from some rules." Her eyes too were on Harry, but she turned to look at her husband as she said that.

"Would he even listen to me?" mused the Golden Lord, relaxing his elbow on the table, chin on his hand. "I fear that the elfling no longer likes me." He too turned to look at Celeborn. "He simply screamed, 'No' when he saw me waiting in his chambers this morning."

This was a bit of a shock and it showed, in the smallest way, on the Lady of Lorien's face.

"That is... different." She turned fully to her husband, hoping to catch his attention. When it was unsuccessful, she called his name.

Celeborn darted his eyes quickly to his wife and then back to Harry, "Yes?" he queried, to show he was actively listening now.

"Harry screamed at our dear Glorfindel this morning."

"I hea-..." Celeborn trailed off then looked at Glorfindel, "Truly? He screamed?" At Glorfindel's nod, Celeborn frowned. After a moment of thoughtful silence, he added, "I shall endeavor to speak with him tonight about his behavior. It is not fitting for an... For him."

... ... ... ...

* * *

The rest of dinner passed quietly and once Celeborn saw that Harry was finished, he rose from his seat and diverted Harry's attention onto himself. Harry, happy to see Celeborn, grabbed his hand and jumped around him as he prattled on about his day and, 'Weren't his new clothes just awesome?'

When the pair arrived in Harry's rooms, a bath was already waiting for him. Harry's mouth was open to argue, but Celeborn gave him A Look. Grumbling followed as Harry started to undo the ties and straps on his clothes and once he was naked, he held his arms up to be lifted into the tub. It was still as tall as him and he needed help with that.

The bath was relaxing, and Harry even allowed Celeborn to wash his hair for him.

It was a squeaky clean Harry, smelling faintly of citrus, who was tucked into bed by Celeborn.

He sat on the edge of the bed near Harry, brushing through his hair with his fingers.

"Harry." The elfling in question hummed in response, opening his eyes. "I heard what happened this morning." Feigning innocent, Harry didn't even flinch. "You screamed at Lord Glorfindel."

"Glorfin-butthead," Harry couldn't stop the childish insult from slipping out, pursing his lips afterward.

Celeborn, not understanding 'butthead' since it came out in English, but understanding that it wasn't complimentary, gave Harry another stern look. This time the elfling did flinch.

"He is to be your guardian once you travel to Rivendell, Harry," began Celeborn, "I implore you to treat him kindly, and with respect."

Harry turned his face half into his stuffed animal and grumbled.

"I cannot hear you when you do that."

Harry griped more, face fully turned into the toy.

"Harry."

His answer was a yell before Harry flopped onto his back. "Glorfindel wouldn't answer my question! He dodged and evaded it and he's not nice! He's not like you, and I don't like him!" Harry kicked his legs and flailed his arms to drive his point home, though a tiny part of him realized that maybe this was a hissy fit.

Celeborn reached out a hand to soothe Harry's anger, and hurts, though he was confused.

"What question?"

Harry shouted again.

"Harry," Celeborn said over the noise, "If I cannot remember it's quite possible that Lord Glorfindel does not either. Did you ask this... question a second time?"

Harry paused, one arm and leg raised as he had continued to flail about. He settled down on the bed and turned to look at Celeborn with narrowed eyes.

"You can forget things?"

There was a minute change in Celeborn's visage showing his chagrin. "Of course we can. We may be immortal, but we are not infallible."

"Huh." was Harry's response, thinking that over. That made sense. He could only remember things so well, or he could before because he had finally managed to learn Occlumency when he was in his 100s. Now, though, thoughts sometimes slip through his brain like a sieve. Harry figured it had to do with being a kid again.

"Ask, Harry." Celeborn's statement brought Harry back to the present, "It's possible that Glorfindel is assuming that you forgot too." His fingers dragged through Harry's hair, scratching at the elfling's scalp, causing said elfling to squirm in delight- it felt so good.

"Okay~" Harry sighed out, curling up close to Celeborn, wiggling on the bed until he was using the Lord's leg as a pillow.

"And please do not scream at him again," Celeborn asked as he fixed the blankets over Harry's tiny body. "It is unbecoming of an elf."

"I do what I want..." Harry mumbled in response, nuzzling the thigh-pillow. Celeborn looked to the ceiling and wished for strength in dealing with this headstrong elfling.

"I know, young Harry. I know." was all Celeborn could really say as he began to sing him to sleep.

... ... ... ... ...

* * *

The following morning, Harry went from curled up in a ball to sitting straight up in bed and gazing at Glorfindel. He stared, eyes wide and not really seeing the Golden elf—at least not for the first few blinks. When Harry came too he flopped back onto the bed, mumbling to himself.

"Good morning," Glorfindel didn't bother to conceal his amusement at how Harry woke up.

Harry lifted an arm and waved in response.

"This is definitely an improvement from yesterday."

Harry grunted.

"Are you still not going to speak with me, little elf?"

Harry grunted again, but this time it was a little breathy, almost a laugh.

With maximum effort, Harry hauled himself back up to a sitting position. He blinked, exceedingly slowly, at the lord in his rooms and then flopped back onto his side.

"You're a butthead," Harry muttered into his stuffed toy. "I'm mad at you."

"I figured that part out on my own."

Harry huffed this time. He thought about what Celeborn had said last night and curled up in such a way that he could still hug his toy, and yet look at Glorfindel too.

"Do you remember the question I asked you the first night you were here?" His voice was soft, bordering on meek as if he were afraid to ask the question.

A look of confusion spread across Glorfindel's face, before he slowly ventured, "You asked many questions… Of which do you speak?"

A pouty lip stuck out of Harry's mouth. "At dinner…" he mumbled before clearing his throat and starting again. "I asked you, at dinner, if I could call you 'brother'... You, me and Alfy are the only three that have been to see Namo-lord-dead-guy," the name brought a cough of laughter from the Golden elf, "and come back. That makes us like a weird family, right?" He paused, uncertain eyes making contact with Glorfindel's.

"But," Harry continued, looking down to his bed with a heavy frown—or pout. He was a kid, after all. "You never answered me. And then during the meeting with everyone else you still didn't answer, though you said you'd think about it or something.

"And I just got so MAD!" Harry flailed his arm to emphasize his anger. "I had a family. A huge family, my wife had 6 older brothers, and we had 3 kids, and they all had kids as well, and the family was HUGE Okay!?" Tears worked their way into Harry's eyes, face and nose going red from his emotions.

"But… But it's not the same as a brother." He stopped, sniffling. As he blinked, the tears rolled down and he rubbed them into his toy. Glorfindel, shocked by the emotion, had come to sit on the bed near the elfling. He was hesitant, but he did reach out and attempt to mollify him.

Despite his tears and his face being pressed half into his toy, muffling his voice, Harry continued. "I've always wanted a brother of my own… Seeing Ron and Ginny and everyone together… I always wanted a brother." The sentence was repeated at a near whisper, words broken by his sniffling.

"Young one," Glorfindel began after Harry remained in silence for a few minutes, "I have nothing against you calling me 'brother'. I am terribly sorry that I never verbalized this for you. I never meant to cause you any distress." His hand hovered for a moment before coming to rest on Harry's head, brushing through those curls like so many others did.

It's a good thing that Harry liked it, otherwise, it would probably get super annoying.

Harry pulled his face away from his toy, sniffling hard before making eye contact. "Really?" His green eyes sparkled from tears, but they weren't falling anymore.

"Truly," was Glorfindel's immediate reply. "I have not had family in many years… and I would be happy to claim you as mine… as my brother." He amended his statement when Harry made a small face at the word 'mine'.

A small smile came back to Harry's face and he giggled softly. "I guess I should stop calling you Glorfin-butthead."

Glorfindel chuckled, a rich sound that warmed Harry. "It would not be very nice, no."

"I can call you Feeny again?"

His agreement was given in the form of a nod, followed by, "However… why Feeny?"

"Because Finny sounds stupid."

The bluntness of Harry's reply startled more laughter out of the Golden elf and Harry joined with his own giggles.

Eventually, several minutes later after Harry had been instructed—with a firm look, which he surprisingly obeyed—to wash up, they were sitting eating breakfast together.

That's when Glorfindel began to muse.

"You know, little one," ruminated Glorfindel, earning Harry's attention away from his delicious fruits, "You seem to be giving names to everyone… Yet no one has given you a name."

Harry blinked wide, obviously confused.

"An Elvish name," clarified Glorfindel. "Maybe I should call you—"

The response was shocking and immediate.

"NO!" Harry jumped from his seat and landed, hard, in Glorfindel's lap. He clapped his hands over the Lord's mouth, preventing him from voicing the name. "NO!" Harry gasped out again, shaking his head. "NOT YET!"

Not giving a verbal answer, Glorfindel merely questioned Harry with a fabulously arched brow.

A lovely pink spread over Harry's face quickly and he mumbled a soft, "I want Celeborn to name me first…" unable to make eye contact in his embarrassment.

Behind Harry's hands, Glorfindel laughed.

... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

 **AN: Should I stop having Harry be 'rolling' at the beginning of each chapter? I've considered it a few times, but have kept with it because why not? Also, it's too hard to keep writing the Elves in super proper, fancy speech all the time. I'll try my best, but ... yeah. Lol**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't.**

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

* * *

When the moment happened, it was as Harry was playing a game with Rumil and Haldir. They were rolling a ball back and forth in a kind of make-shift football/soccer game-Harry had shown them what to do after acquiring a ball. Orophin was nearby, speaking with Glorfindel.

Harry had just kicked the ball back to Haldir, and the elf wasn't expecting the elfling to freeze up like a statue, and therefore had returned the ball to him. It impacted with Harry's legs, causing him to stumble and fall over. However, it was clear that Harry hadn't even noticed.

Rumil ran over first, followed quickly by Haldir. Their haste alerted the other two elves in the area and they came as well.

Laying on the ground, eyes unseeing, Harry was crying. The scary part was that he wasn't making any noise.

"Harry," Glorfindel ventured, kneeling near the elfling's head. "Harry, please, what is the matter?"

All the elfling could do was hiccup, body starting to shake from his silent tears.

Glorfindel looked up to the elves around him and inquired, "Who is the fastest?" Orophin responded in the affirmative. "Go, find a healer and bring them back. Quickly!" The last word had scarcely left his mouth before Orophin was gone.

Carefully, Glorfindel brought Harry's head into his lap. The three remaining elves spoke soothing words, singing softly to the elfling, but nothing they did seemed to ease him.

It was just as the healer arrived, Celeborn in tow since he happened to be in the area, that Harry gasped, hands clutching his chest.

The healer, a homely elleth, shoved her way forward to Harry's side.

When her hands reached for Harry, he smacked them away in favor of curling up into a ball. He whimpered out a quiet, "No..." finally making noise before sobbing loudly.

It obviously wasn't a cry of pain, but the healer still did what she could as Harry began to scream his grief into Glorfindel's knee.

Eventually, the healer deemed there was nothing physically wrong with him. She cleared him to be moved, and Glorfindel didn't hesitate to pick Harry up and carry him to his rooms. Celeborn followed, as did the brothers.

The whole way there, Harry cried, though he had stopped screaming thankfully. All they could get from him was the word 'no'.

When they reached Harry's room, Galadriel was there. She had prepared some things, teas and flowers with a comforting scent, having clearly Seen something.

They tried to lay Harry into the bed, but he was clinging to Glorfindel tightly, so the Golden elf sat on the bed and held the elfling close.

It took nearly an hour, and the three First Age elves were involved in their own quiet activities-the brothers had left to do their patrol-when Harry finally spoke

"Borry's dead." His voice cracked, painful from the screaming earlier. Celeborn got up, coming to rest on the bed next to the new set of 'brothers'. He held a cup of tea, which Harry tried to take with a shaking hand, but Glorfindel pushed the hand down and Celeborn helped Harry take a sip.

"Harry," Galadriel began, remaining in her chair though leaning forward, "Have you Seen something?"

The answer she got was a shake of the head. His hand came up, even as he took another sip, to rest on his chest. After swallowing, he said, "I felt it…

"He was shot... poison... three arrows." he continued, thoughts almost disjointed, eyes on the bed but not seeing the material. "I could feel it, every shot. He-... he's dead." The tears started a new, and Glorfindel reached out for a wet cloth which he used to wipe at Harry's swollen eyes.

Harry sniffled, hard, and Celeborn urged Harry to take another sip of the tea, which he did. The two ellons exchanged a glance, their worry for the elfling plain on their faces.

Galadriel pushed on though. "Harry," she urged, "What did you feel?" She wasn't even fazed by the nasty glares the two elves on the bed gave her.

"I felt..." Harry croaked out, reaching for the tea and then clearing his throat with a wince, "I felt... I knew the first shot was lethal and... and felt everything after that." His hand was pressing on his chest, where he felt the arrows had hit. "I knew the moment he died..."

"But how did you know?" She pushed again, wanting to know the reason. Before Harry could answer, however, Celeborn stopped him.

"That is enough," He spoke, his voice like a whip. Galadriel jerked back in her chair with surprise. Glorfindel and Harry looked up to Celeborn, but Harry turned away soon after, cuddling his head into his brother's shoulder.

"This has been a trying experience for Harry, and he does not need your probing interrogation at this time." He rose from the bed, handing off the cup of tea to Glorfindel, who helped Harry finish it off.

"I understand your desire to know and learn everything, dear, but this is something that will have to wait." He stood before his wife with an offered hand, the suggestion it offered telling.

Galadriel stared at her husband and everything he wasn't saying and bowed her head just a fraction, eyes downcast. "Of course." She took his hand and rose to her feet. "When he is ready." because, apparently, she wouldn't let it lie.

Celeborn led his wife from the room, leaving the two brothers to curl up with each other on the bed. Glorfindel started to hum, once Harry was done with the tea, pulling the blankets over them both. Despite being mid-afternoon, the pair slept until the following day.

Breakfast was a somber affair and Harry refused to speak for several hours. He was held back from lessons, simply wanting to stay with Glorfindel, or Celeborn when he came in around lunchtime.

It was only as the evening meal was approaching that Harry looked up to Celeborn, whose legs he was using as a backrest, and said, "I'm ready to talk to Lady Gladdy now."

The use of a nickname for his wife, and yet still not hearing his own, made Celeborn a little jealous. He was also surprised at the formality of the nickname: no one else had 'lord' or 'lady' before their names. Only Galadriel.

Something to ruminate about later.

Celeborn didn't allow his feelings to show on his face though, simply giving Harry a slow nod. "Do you want to speak with her here in your rooms, or would you like to dine with her and speak after the meal?"

Clambering to his feet, Harry considered his choices then shrugged. "We can talk after we eat." He stuck close to Celeborn, grabbing his hand, as well as Glorfindel's, on the way to the public meal.

Harry remained subdued throughout dinner, only eating when pushed to by the others at the table.

When everyone finally settled into a comfortable room, Harry was sat on a couch next to Glorfindel. He was leaning against his self-proclaimed brother's side, fiddling with the fabric of Glorfindel's clothes. Across from them in chairs were Galadriel and Celeborn.

Silence reigned until Harry broke it bluntly. "I know why I felt Borry die."

Three pairs of ancient eyes were focused on him and Harry squirmed. "Okay, at least I'm assuming this is why I felt him d-die." He amended his statement, voice hitching as he repeated that statement. His emotions were still in flux. Even though he'd only known Boromir for a short time, he was very sad about his death.

"Could you..." Galadriel began, glancing to her husband when she felt his minor glare. "Please, could you tell us what conclusions you have come to?"

Again, Harry squirmed, but for a different reason this time. "It's kind of a long story..." His sentence was broken by a sigh, leaning more heavily against Glorfindel. "But basically, I accidentally became the Master of Death. I think that's why I could feel it."

There was a long moment as all three tried to make sense of that statement. Long story, indeed.

"What, pray tell, do you mean, exactly, Harry?" Glorfindel questioned, "The long version." he added when Harry had opened his mouth to no doubt spout of another unhelpful short sentence.

"Welllll..." Harry hedged, "I guess it starts with a Tale of Three Brothers..."

... ... ...

* * *

It took nearly two hours for Harry to explain everything: The Deathly Hallows, his past, what had happened to him. The First Age elves all sat quietly as they digested the entire story of Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Finally, Galadriel asked a question she had been curious about. "When you were still a wizard... could you feel people passing?"

At first, Harry looked like he wanted to deny this claim... but he stopped and thought about it.

"Maybe... towards the end. When I got closer to Death myself, I could feel it..." His eyes grew sad, misting over. "And before… Ginny... Ron and Hermione... and my own kids." Harry shrugged, using his shoulder to wipe at his cheek before attacking his eyes with his hands to wipe away the tears. "I didn't realize it at the times, but looking back on those memories... I think I knew."

Galadriel looked to be ready to make another comment, but Celeborn cut her off as he watched Harry stifle a huge yawn.

"I believe that has been enough for our dear Harry," he stated, moving towards the edge of his chair. "Lord Glorfindel, if you could convey him to his rooms?"

"Certainly," responded Glorfindel, rising to his feet. He went to pick up Harry, who whined and pushed away from it.

Harry went to Galadriel first, telling her, "G'nite Lady Gladdy," and then trotted over to Celeborn and hugged him much tighter, and longer. He didn't say much, just mumbled a "G'nite" to him as well, though his ears were pink as he rushed back over to Glorfindel and took his hand.

When the pair of brother's had left, Galadriel couldn't hold back her laughter at the tiny pout that had formed on Celeborn's face.

"Dear husband, are you upset that I now have my nickname?"

He didn't dignify the question with a response, merely huffing elegantly through his nose and turning his head away.

"With the way Harry was blushing once more, he may be claiming it in his head as you interact." She rose to her feet and offered him a hand, a reverse mimicry of their positions from yesterday. "He will capitulate eventually, and speak the name." She reassured her husband as he rose to his own feet, joining her on the trek back to their rooms. "You must be patient."

Celeborn finally sighed, nodding. "I know." He sighed again softly, then gave his wife a small smile. "I know, dear." And they went to their own rooms to rest for the night.

... ... ... ...

* * *

 **AN: scarletdewdrops informed me that back in chapter 2 I had given Galadriel and Celeborn nicknames. Gladdy is sticking around, but Celeborn's will change. Also, did you know that his name is pronounced with a hard K sound!?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't.**

... ... …

* * *

Harry was lounging near the archery range, laying on his belly. He had a blank arrow shaft that he was rolling on the ground. He flicked it away, then rolled sideways and rolled back just in time for it to wind up in front of him.

Haldir and his brother Orophin, along with Glorfindel, were watching him and found it quite adorable. Especially when he would start giggling.

The atmosphere around them was serene in a way that only Elven settlements could be.

It was all broken when Rumil came dashing towards his brothers with a shout.

"Haldir! The forest is being attacked!"

The brother in question shot to his feet, Orophin following a second later. Harry rolled onto his back just in time to see Glorfindel hesitating on if he should follow the Wardens, who were now whispering to each other, or go to Harry and protect him.

He opted for his own brother, picking up the tiny elfling.

Harry wrapped his arms around Glorfindel's neck, curious as to what this was about.

"What's going on Feeny?" Harry asked, leaning happily against his brother, even though the stress in the ellon was obvious.

"'Tis nothing to concern yourself with, little one," replied Glorfindel, who shared A Look with the March Warden and then took off at a brisk pace towards Harry's rooms.

Harry made an unhappy face. "Ya know. 'M not a child." The way he muttered petulantly didn't help his case.

Glorfindel smiled fondly but didn't stop his brisk pace.

"Feeeeeeeennnyyyyyyy..." Harry whined the name, trying to shake the elf that held him.

"Haarrryyyy," Glorfindel returned, his voice more of a hummed song than the whine of the elfling.

The sound made Harry laugh, but then he scowled and smacked his fist against the shoulder he'd been laying on before. "Tell me!" He demanded.

The Golden Elf opened the door while balancing Harry carefully on one hip, and pushed it open with his back.

"I see no reason why you wish to know. You are safe, that is all that matters, Harry," the elf explained as he set Harry down on his bed. Harry whined and flailed then rolled onto his stomach.

"Fine," Harry muttered into his bedding. He was quiet for a few moments and then turned to look over his shoulder at Glorfindel, who had pulled a chair closer to the door. "Does this have anything to do with what Gorny's been doing with all those dead people?"

Harry mused that it was interesting to watch an elf choke on their own spit.

... ... ...

* * *

Three days prior to the assault on Lorien, Harry had been absconded in a tree, trying to use his magic to roll a ball along the ground-with little to no success-when he'd felt it.

He felt Aragorn, but in a very different way to how he had felt Boromir. Aragorn wasn't dead, but ... he was around a lot of dead-not-dead ... people sounded better than things... maybe spirits was probably the best word.

Aragorn had... changed in status somehow. For the rest of the day and deep into the next, Harry could feel how Aragorn's... essence? or maybe soul? evolved.

It wasn't a fundamental or alarming transformation, but something had definitely shifted in the core of his being.

Around midnight, as Harry was tossing and turning, was when the feelings came to a head. He knew it wasn't bad, but he did know it had something to do with death. Ever since he had spoken about his title, he could sense that part of his magic easier.

The new knowledge settled with that part of Harry's magic and he was able to fall asleep, clutching his stuffed toy tightly.

... ... ...

* * *

Harry explained the change that he had felt in Aragorn to Glorfindel as the pair took refuge in Harry's rooms. In return, Glorfindel decided to explain what was happening and how it was, indeed, related, however in the blandest of terms.

It had been a while since Harry was privy to the knowledge of the blossoming war. He knew something had been happening while he was around the Fellowship, but nothing much. Glorfindel acknowledged there was a warrior in Harry, in his past, and that despite being an elfling NOW, he hadn't been BEFORE.

He decided that Harry should be able to handle at least a little bit it. Knowing they were at war. There would probably be more battles to come. Forewarned is forearmed, after all, and it would help Harry to know what was going on.

The rest of the day was spent debating how Harry could be kept safe, especially after Celeborn showed up to ensure the elfling was, indeed, safe.

... ... ...

* * *

The next few days that passed were tense. Harry tried to lighten the mood and he succeeded with most. Just seeing the tiny elfling running around and laughing raised people's spirits.

As expected though the atmosphere broke when news of a second assault on their forest was announced. Harry was carefully shuffled off to his room amongst much grumbling, but Glorfindel promised to teach him something new which helped to appease the tiny elf.

That night, during dinner, Harry stopped mid-sentence and looked up… He didn't make eye contact with anyone, clearly seeing-or Seeing?-something that no one else could.

A slow smile spread across Harry's face and he happily went back to eating.

Celeborn, glad that it was just him and Harry since Glorfindel was off training with other warriors, inquired what had happened.

"They were released. You know, I didn't even know how fucking WRONG it felt until they were and now it just feels..." That smile came back and it managed to brighten the entire room. "Now it feels right."

Harry laughed suddenly, stabbing at his fruit so he could eat it. "Good job, Gorny!" And he saluted with the fruit before eating it.

Though confused, Celeborn tilted his glass at Harry's strange toast.

... ... ...

* * *

The next week was busy for everyone. The elves were preparing for another assault on their forest. Galadriel knew nothing would come of it-their forest was too well protected by the use of her ring, Nenya...

However.

However, it was still scary, what with the elfling in their midst. They knew that if there was a third attack, they would have to go on the offensive. Already, Glorfindel and Galadriel were discussing the logistics of an attack on Dol Guldur.

Harry though was just scampering about underfoot, having managed to dodge Istimiel earlier and escape into the chaos of the day.

At least until he was picked up.

Harry let out a scream, squirming as dexterous fingers managed to both hold him aloft AND tickle into his sides.

"NO! EEEE~~ NO FAIR!" His arms and legs flailed about, "I'LL KICK YOU IN THE FACE!" Harry threatened, trying to angle his body in a way so he could accomplish such a feat.

The person holding him laughed and unceremoniously dropped Harry to his shoulder. This new vantage point allowed Harry just enough information to guess at his assailant. "Dir-dir?"

"Did you think it was one of my fine brothers?" Haldir's voice rung with his mirth, drawing giggles from the elfling.

"I dunno, you all do have blond hair."

Haldir replied with more laughter.

The March Warden carried Harry from the chaos of the staging area as if he was a sack of potatoes and Harry allowed it, happily playing with the hair he could reach. He tried to tie it into knots, but they just refused to stay.

Stupid magical elf hair.

Harry idly wondered if his hair would be like that if he grew it out long too...

"Heavy thoughts, little one?" Haldir gave Harry a pat before pulling him into a proper hold, then set him down on the ground.

"Not really," chirped the elfling, grabbing Haldir's hand and pulling him along towards an area they could play. "Do you think my hair could be like yours, Dir-dir?"

"Like mine?"

"Long and magical."

Haldir said the word with amusement, "Magical?"

"Yeah!" Harry threw his hands up into the air, turning towards Haldir. His hands, already up, reached for the March Warden's hair. "No matter what I do, it won't stay in knots! It's so silky and smooth...

"I'm really jealous..." His hands landed on his own hair, tugging a piece into his line of sight. "I've always had wild hair."

Haldir took a seat, pulling the elfling close so he could still talk to him. "Wild?" he prompted, hoping to hear more.

"Yeah. Potter Family Curse." Harry smiled in such a self-deprecating way that looked completely out of place on a tiny child's face. Seeing Haldir's confusion, Harry explained. "My name is Harry Potter."

"That 'tis... a very... Mannish name."

"Well, I was a man before I was an elf." That smile was back but tinted with a bit more humor. Harry pushed at Haldir's bent leg, moving it back and forth. "So of course I would have a Mannish name."

A soft hum left the March Warden as he thought about that, letting his fingers run through Harry's hair.

"You said before, little one, that you had children. Did they also have this... Curse?"

Harry laughed happily and nodded. "Not my dear Lily, thankfully, but most of them did."

Haldir hummed softly again, inspecting Harry's hair. The elfling was once more in need of a good bath. "I think if you were to grow your hair out long, it may smooth out like my brothers' and mine"

Draping himself over the leg he had been pushing, Harry turned to look at Haldir. "You think so, Dir-dir?"

An elegant shrug was the response. "It's possible."

A litany of giggles poured forth from Harry at that and he relaxed comfortably over that strong leg. Eventually, Harry poised a new question to the happily relaxing Elf.

"Where are Rum-rum and Fin-fin?"

Haldir expressed his mirth by shaking his head, not bothering to hold back his chuckles. Why should he? Being with the elfling brought joy and light to his heart.

"My brothers are still preparing."

"Preparing for what?"

"For something that might happen."

"What might happen?"

"Harry..." The tone was a warning. Harry didn't heed it.

"Dir-dir~." The childish voice came out as a song, making Harry giggle.

Haldir sighed then, dropping a heavy hand onto Harry's back. "This is not a matter you need to concern yourself with. You're too-"

"Fuck you if you say I'm too young," Harry didn't bother to glare because his voice was glacial. It didn't fit with his tiny body. "I've been fighting in wars since I was a baby, so even if I'm tiny again doesn't mean I ain't got the mentality to deal with this.

"Please, Dir-dir. I want to know what's going on..." There was a definite pout in his voice, belaying his words. "Feeny won't tell me much, some yes, but not a lot. Probably under the mistaken impression that he needs to protect me or something."

"You do need protecting," replied Haldir quietly, moving his hand to turn Harry to face him. "To all of Elvenkind, Harry, you are such a precious gift that we cannot help but want to protect you as much as we can. That is why we have kept mum about what is happening.

"It is... understandable that you want to know what is going on around you." Haldir allowed Harry this, "But there really is not much to know. The War that is being fought all over Arda is coming to a head, with battles taking place on all fronts.

"Your friends in the Fellowship are fighting and we are fighting here as well. We all must do our parts in these battles." A smile worked its way on Haldir's face as he continued to talk, "Even you little elf. Your happiness brings us joy, and if we coddle you some... that is because it is something we _need_ to be able to do right now.

"Being able to provide for you a safe place to grow and flourish... It one of the greatest things for us." Haldir shrugged-it was a graceful thing. "At least, I know it is for me. Even when you call me 'Dir-dir'."

Harry's jaw dropped-it was more than Glorfindel had ever explained to him, though Haldir had managed to censor it enough so that the March Warden felt comfortable with what he told to the elfling. But then Haldir just kept going and going and Harry was blushing by the end of it.

And laughing. Blushing and laughing.

"I-. uh. Well. That is to say," Harry floundered like a pro, the red in his face covering from the tips of his ears all the way over his nose. "I-... I uh..." His voice dropped down quiet, "I like hanging out with you too, Dir-dir..." And was it possible to blush more? Because Harry managed it just then.

Haldir laughed at the elfling, picking him up with ease and snuggling him to his chest. A nose went to those wild curls, even though they were definitely musky, but Harry was just too precious for him to care.

"Come, Harry," Haldir declared eventually, setting the elfling down. "Let us go and find my wayward brothers. They deserve your joy as much as I."

"Yeah!" Harry shouted, running off into the distance. "Where's the Rum-rum and Fin-fin gone!" His laughter followed the statement as if sharing a joke with himself.

... ... ...

* * *

The anticipated third attack was met with heavy opposition from the elves of Lothlorien. Immediately following this show of power from Khamul, the second in command of the Nazgul, Galadriel-along with Celeborn and Glorfindel-led the march on Dol Guldur.

Being left behind with Istimiel and Beriogelir was not exactly ideal for Harry, but he did recognize the fact that he was in a tiny body and couldn't wield his magic like he used to in his magical prime.

Still, he was left pouting in his rooms.

His pair of caretakers tried to distract him, but it didn't work. Harry was worry about Celeborn and Glorfindel, not to mention Haldir, Rumil, and Orophin. His new family. Shit, he was even worried about Galadriel for all that he knew she was a bad-ass bitch who could take care of herself.

He still worried.

The first day was full of anxious energy on the part of everyone in the room.

Harry could feel that something was building. There was a ... climax coming. Some sort of peak that had been building in the entire world and it was coming.

Soon.

The second day was when Harry got his answer.

He had been doing some writing work while resting on his stomach when he finally felt it.

It was like the world of Bad had broken and finally, Hope could be felt again.

Harry wasn't the only one who felt it either. Marching towards a battle at Dol Guldur, Galadriel and Glorfindel stopped as one and turned towards the south-east. In Rivendell, Elrond did the same thing.

For his part, Harry smiled as the feeling washed over him. This would... This would be okay. It would all be okay.

... ... ...

* * *

Of course, it wasn't going to be okay.

Two days had passed since Harry felt hope and goodness return to the world. He was relaxing on his balcony, wrapped in a loose blanket. He had a pillow under his head and his stuffed animal hugged tightly to his side.

Looking up at the blue sky with its grey clouds... he found it oddly fitting about the situation he could feel. Things were getting better, but it wasn't a hundred percent.

It was during that doze when he first felt it. His magic. His... Death Magic-he couldn't think of any other words to describe the feeling he got from that side of his... magic.

Because Harry was half asleep, he didn't pay much attention to what was going on and just curled up with his stuffed animal more, mumbling a little. Nearby, Istimiel glanced up from her book and smiled happily at the elfling.

Harry couldn't get any rest, however. That niggling wouldn't go away. It was telling him that something was wrong. Something big. Something really big and important and he really should pay attention to IT RIGHT FUCKING NOW.

His eyes snapped open, breath seizing in his chest. A horrified whisper of, "No..." left him.

That was all the warning that Istimiel got before Harry disappeared in a deafening crack.

... ... ...

* * *

 **AN: /maniacal cackling. This chapter got a lot of help from Scarletdewdrops who was a constant sounding board for me. Thank you very much for your continual help.**

 **Also, according to the timeline I have from the Tolkien wikis I've researched:**

 **The 3rd assault on Lothlorien happened on March 23rd.**

 **The Ring was destroyed on March 25th.**

 **Celeborn crosses the Anduin and takes Dol Guldur and Galadriel brings down its walls on the 28th.**

 **The last part happened faster in my story because of Harry being around, by like a day or two.**

 **I am, clearly, following the books a bit more than the movies. (Though I've never read the books and only watched the movies once lol. So I guess I'm mostly following Wikis?)**

 **Giving credit where credit is due, I'm also using the lotrproject com a lot for timelines. It's a great map.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't.**

... ... …

* * *

Consciousness returned to Harry slowly, his body rolling onto his side as he tried to get his bearings about where he was and why he felt like he'd been hit by a truck.

As slow as consciousness was, his memory was a quick thing and Harry sat up in a rush, gasping, "No," once more.

This alerted Celeborn was resting near Harry's cot. The First Age Elf sat forward, intense eyes locked onto the tiny elfling.

"Harry! You have awakened!"

Green eyes had been darting about the place in a panic locked onto Celeborn with those words and Harry launched himself at him, clinging tightly.

A word was whimpered, too soft for even elvish ears, and then Harry was crying, sobbing, the sound so deeply despairing it wounded the soul.

"Noooo," keened the elfling, shaking his head and grinding his forehead against Celeborn's shoulder. "Nononoo... I-I can't be too late, I can't, no I apparated here, I can't, he can't, no it can't...!"

Babble words of little to no sense left the elfling between the wracking sobs, emotions unable to be contained. Celeborn couldn't begin to imagine what had caused Harry to break down as he had, but at least now he had a name for what… or rather _who_... had caused Harry to appear suddenly in their midst.

Rubbing the elfling's back in an attempt to calm him down, Celeborn settled into a chair and just held him. He thought back to the chaos of Harry's sudden appearance and the subsequent fainting spell, on top of everything else that had happened.

They had done it. They had defeated Khamul and taken back Dol Guldur, already being called by its previous name of Amon Lanc.

He had led the charge himself, Glorfindel by his side, and Thranduil at the head of his own pack of warriors, while Galadriel stood upon a hill crest and used the powers of Nenya to help tear down the walls of the ancient fortress.

Nothing remained.

The aftermath was terrible. The fighting before Galadriel hand waved their way into victory had been vicious and several elves had been lost for both contingents.

Celeborn had a meeting to talk with Thranduil in a few days about everything that happened and what would happen next. Amon Lanc was in Thranduil's forest after all so discussions needed to be had.

Everything had been put on hold with the appearance of the elfling, however.

This sudden, terrible awakening didn't bode well.

Harry had finally quieted down enough to be left sniffling. Celeborn rose to his feet with no effort, carrying Harry as if he were a mere babe.

Harry didn't care. He held onto the ellon snugly, acting like a young child because of his sadness.

Celeborn took a cloth and wet it carefully, clearing up Harry's face, caring not for the snot or wetness he could feel on his shoulder. He did his best to not disturb Harry as he transferred him to the other hip, in case the elfling wanted to rest his head against him again. No need for him to lay his head in that mess.

Sensing that Harry was finally calm enough, Celeborn opened his mouth to question Harry when Glorfindel bustled in with his own question.

"Has he wok-," The evidence before him cut Glorfindel off immediately. Harry, hearing his voice, started to whimper. As if Glorfindel himself was a trigger, Celeborn turned away, shielding the elfling with his body.

"I apologize, my lord," Glorfindel murmured, posture demure, speaking much more quietly in the wake of Harry's distress. "I will de-"

"NO FEENY DON'T LEAVE!" Harry screeched, voice broken and rough from his earlier sobs. The elfling reached over Celeborn's shoulder for Glorfindel with a single hand, the other still clutching Celeborn.

Glorfindel raised his brow high in surprise but obliged and returned into the tent, stepping close enough that Harry could grab onto him as well. To say the positions were awkward was an understatement, but the elves indulged Harry and remained in the positions they had wound up in until Harry relaxed enough to speak up once more.

"I was too late," was what he finally muttered, relaxing his grip on Glorfindel and resting his head on the snot free shoulder of Celeborn.

Both elves shared a look, wondering what he was late for. Glorfindel was the one who asked.

Harry hiccuped around the answer, tears returning to his eyes.

"Haldir."

Understanding was like a brick to the face. Celeborn's heart broke for the elfling he held, turning his head into those curls to grieve with him over the lost friend.

Glorfindel, again, was the one who spoke. "Could you... feel… his passing as you had for Boromir?"

A miserable nod was his answer. Glorfindel felt his heart clenched in response while Celeborn hugged the elfling tighter as if he alone could protect him from all the hurts of the world.

The sweet voice of the elfling came out muffled as he finally decided to speak up more. "It was... so much worse... than Borry..." Harry paused, sniffling, a hand fisted into the long hair of Celeborn as the Lord held him close. "He hurt. It was such ... it hurt so fucking much...

"He didn't die quickly, did he?" Harry's voice was louder then, wanting to know and yet dreading the answer he had already felt in his very soul, or well. In his magic.

"No, brother, he didn't," Glorfindel yearned to offer physical comfort to the elfling as Celeborn was, but, well, Celeborn was kind of hogging Harry, so he settled for brushing his fingers over the arm he could see over Celeborn's shoulder. "The healers worked hard to save him. He wasn't ready to leave."

The 'why' was left unsaid and yet understood.

The pair didn't want to share with the elfling how his arrival had actually pulled healers away from Haldir's side and therefore prolonged the March Warden's suffering.

If they had anything to say about it, Harry would never learn that.

Silence reigned before Harry hiccupped again, a few more tears coming out of sore eyes that he wiped against the cleaner shoulder he used as a pillow.

"C-..." There was a pause as Harry swallowed hard. He knew he had arrived in time to have possibly saved Haldir, but because he was so small he hadn't been able to save the elf he had considered part of his growing elven family. "Can I see him?" This time his words were a mere whisper, sadness heavy in the air.

The two Ancient elves shared a look that spoke volumes, the way that adults were wont to do around children, before finally agreeing.

The two First Age elves turned to leave but Harry insisted on having his stuffed toy with him, so Glorfindel picked it up and handed it to Harry. The three then made their way to the tent where the bodies of the Fallen were kept until they could be properly honored.

Most of the bodies were covered in some way by a sheet, or something similar, so hide the damage that had happened to them. This was done as a way to protect any mourners who came to pay their respects.

Celeborn set Harry down at the entrance of the tent. Haldir was not far inside and Celeborn pointed Harry towards the body.

"We shall be waiting for you here, Harry… Unless…?" The sentence was left as an open invitation. Mourning was a very personal thing for some elves and if Harry wanted to say goodbye to Haldir alone, they would allow it. If he didn't, however…

Harry did appear to hesitate for but a moment before shaking his head. He could do this by himself… Even if he brought his stuffed toy with him.

Both of the ellon gave Harry's shoulders encouraging squeezes before taking a step away from the tent and Harry ventured inside.

It wasn't hard to find Haldir.

Except it felt like one of the hardest things he'd done since becoming an elf.

He tripped over his own feet and fell to his knees next to the cot that Haldir was laying on. Harry knew it was him, even though he had been completely covered by a blanket. A quick tug remedied that and Harry felt tears prick anew at his eyes.

Seeing Haldir's dead body didn't make it better.

There was nothing romantic about how he just looked like he was sleeping.

Haldir was unnaturally still. He was pale and waxen. The glow that all elves share was completely gone from this… … this… …

Harry pressed his head against Haldir's arm with a whimper, clutching to the fabric of his sleeve.

Why did this hurt so bad?

It took him a while to work up the courage to look at Haldir again, reaching out to touch that stupid magical elf hair of his. Harry set down his toy and tried to tie the hair into a knot. When the knot fell apart and didn't stay, Harry felt his chin wobble. It was still so stupidly fucking magical.

Feeling a strange urge to save some of Haldir's hair, for no reason he could logically explain, Harry got to his feet and started to pat the March Warden's body down. He knew Haldir kept plenty of weapons on him-and-THERE! A small knife was removed from the boot the elf still had on.

He fumbled with the weapon for a moment, picking up the end of one of Haldir's few braids. Just one small lock. That would be fine, right?

That moment of hesitation was enough for someone to sneak up on the elfling and pluck the knife away.

"I do not imagine our dear brother would appreciate you doing that, little one," Orophin's voice was a soothing rumble, the tall ellon folding himself down to sit on the ground next to where Harry was standing. Rumil joined them, taking a seat on the edge of Haldir's cot, perfectly balanced so as to not tip it over.

"But…" Harry's entire being wobbled now. It suddenly hurt so much to see the other two brothers without Haldir's light to join them.

Rumil placed his hand on Harry's head and ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm Harry down. The soothing gesture worked almost immediately, Harry leaning back against Rumil's leg to soak up the strength he offered.

Meanwhile, Orophin carefully spun the knife he'd taken from Harry then tucked it away into his belt.

"You wish something to remember him by?" Orophin guessed the elfling's motivations correctly and Harry's nod of agreement was unnecessary but given anyway. "We can understand that…" He took a moment to share a look with his brother, who dipped his head in response to the unspoken question, "But his hair isn't the best thing."

"Stupid magical elf hair."

Harry's response was almost automatic, his voice thick with the emotions of a tiny child who was ridiculously upset. The brothers chuckled, but it was a weak thing. Haldir had shared that story with them as they had made their way to Dol Guldur to fight.

"When our father died," Orophin began, reaching out for Haldir's still arm on the cot, "We three were all extremely sad, just like you are now little one." His deft fingers carefully pulled up the sleeve of Haldir's shirt, revealing something underneath.

"We, like you, wanted something to remember him by. Thankfully, our father had something we could share." Orophin moved Haldir's arm above the sheet that rested over him so that Harry could see what he was talking about.

Around the March Warden's wrist was a leather strap. It was wrapped around his wrist a few times, and on the top were several links of slightly glowing metal. Orophin tugged up the sleeve of his own shirt to show that he had a similar item on his wrist. Rumil, pausing in his combing of Harry's hair, showed off the third matching bracelet.

"Our father had a necklace made from Mithril. A plain thing, just a simple chain, for all that the Mithril made it priceless," Orophin explained, carefully untying the strap from Haldir's wrist.

Harry, eyes still stinging and brimming red, were wide as he tracked Orophin's movements, listening rapturously to the story.

"We all agreed that we wanted the necklace, but there was no way to share it between three brothers. So, we broke it." The tie of the bracelet came off under Orophin's nimble fingers, loosening slowly before being pulled away.

"The leather allows us to keep it close to the skin, or under our arm guards, without catching… and with it, we all have a piece of our father. And a way for us to remain united as brothers." The bracelet was held carefully in Orophin's hand. He turned it over a few times remembering the many years the three shared this one piece of jewelry.

"Harry, you became like a fourth brother for us," Rumil continued when it was obvious Orophin could not any longer, the ellon's eyes locked onto his eldest brother's bracelet. "We believe…" He trailed off, the one hand dropping from the elfling's hair as both came to rest on his shoulders. Rumil waited for Harry to look up at him, a few tears falling from his shining eyes.

"We believe that he would want you to have this…" Rumil's voice was soft, the strength gone with the onslaught of emotions he felt. Orophin, still unable to speak, reached for Harry's wrist and wrapped the bracelet around. It took several more goes before he could finally tie it off and his voice returned as he chuckled.

Once he was finished, Orophin finally said, "We know Lord Glorfindel is your brother Harry, but we feel the same and would be honored to be… family… as well."

As the last syllable finished, Harry threw himself forward and grabbed Orophin, sobbing all over again. This time the emotions were worse, and yet a million times better as he felt happiness and tragic sorrow all at once.

Rumil slid from the cot and wrapped his arms around Harry as well, sandwiching the elfling between the two of them.

They remained hugging on the ground until Harry finally had this fresh bought of tears under control. Then they helped Harry clean off his face, the elfling whimpering a bit from how sore his eyes were.

In the end, the three new 'brothers' ceremoniously laid the sheet back over Haldir's body and walked out of the tent together, hand in hand.

… … …

* * *

That night, Harry felt like he had one of the strangest dreams ever. He couldn't remember a lot of the specifics about the dream upon waking, but he could remember the feeling.

Considering Harry had been crying off and on for the past two days since he came to in what he learned later was Celeborn's tent, the elf lord found it strange to hear soft giggling coming from Harry's bed. When he went to check on the elfling, he found him smiling.

"Harry?" Celeborn prompted once he realized Harry was awake.

The elfling in question opened his eyes and a sense of peace and contentment fell over Celeborn. It was like Harry was broadcasting the emotions for all to feel.

"He's happy," Harry whispered the words, almost in awe. Even though the dream was slowly leaving him, that feeling remained.

Sitting up slowly, Harry looking down at the new bracelet he wore and put his hand over the softly, glowing metal links. "He is… at peace." His words were once again soft, just a whisper. Keen elvish hearing picked it up easily, however.

"Who, Harry?" Celeborn could guess, having been told about Harry's new bracelet and 'brothers' the same day it happened.

Looking at Celeborn, Harry smiled, even as a few tears fell. "I think he'll always be watching over me, but he is happy where is he." Harry moved into a kneeling position, reaching out for a hug that Celeborn readily gave. "He's with Lord Namo-mo, right? The one who sent me here?"

Celeborn sat on the cot, holding Harry with that hug. He gently rubbed Harry's back as he responded, "Yes, Harry. Haldir is in the Undying Lands now with Lord Namo and the other Aratar. One day, we will all return there."

Harry nodded his head against Celeborn's shoulder. "I think I went there in my dream. I can't remember, but I think I was there. We didn't talk, just played together." It wasn't the weirdest thing Celeborn had ever heard, so he didn't question it. Nor did he question Harry's next words. "I miss him."

"I know you do, little one. I know." Celeborn placed a kiss on Harry's head, brushing back those curls from the elfling's face with his hand before placing another kiss on Harry's forehead. "Come, let us break our fast."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, using the back of his hand to wipe the last of the tears from his face. "I gotta make sure Fin-fin doesn't take all the good fruit!" Foregoing shoes altogether, Harry hurtled from the bed and bolted out of the tent.

Seeing the elfling shaking off the last vestiges of his melancholy brought joy to Celeborn's heart. If Harry could be okay after such an emotional blow, then so could the rest of the elves of both the Greenwood and Lothlorien.

Having Harry around would, of course, help with that. Now that the danger had passed, it was safe enough for Harry to remain.

Plus the elfling would be able to meet Thranduil and Celeborn was looking forward to that more than he could say.

But first: Breakfast.

… … ..

* * *

Harry had managed to follow his nose to the food tent and barreled inside with a happy smile. His mere presence lit up the room, the nearest elves all smiling at the suddenly hyperactive elfling.

"Fin-fin?" Harry asked, ignoring everyone and looking for his newest brother. "Fin-fin~" he sang the name out now, stalking around the eating areas that had been set up, trying to spot his brother's particular brand of magical blond elf hair.

Easier said than done, what with how many blond elves there were in his midst.

Harry came to a stop behind one particular elf and tilted his head. "Fin-fin?" He asked cautiously, not daring to tap said elf on the shoulder. He didn't think it was Orophin and the arms that quickly snaked around his middle and hoisted Harry up backward proved that it was, in fact, Rumil he had found instead.

A scream of delight left Harry as he was held on his back on Orophin's shoulder, skillful fingers tickling him in a mimicry of what had happened with Haldir just a week or so ago. The parallels were drawn, but it wasn't a sad moment.

Giggling like mad, Harry twisted his body around until he was clinging like a limpet to Orophin's head, completely of his own volition. The ellon dropped his arms and looked out through Harry's own, and legs as well, at his brother.

"Brother. I believe I have acquired a new hat." His voice was the perfect deadpan, even as his lips twitched to a smile-no one could see it around the elfling that covered him so well.

Rumil didn't bother withholding his mirth and chuckled gaily, the elves around him sharing in the laughter. "I believe you have. 'Tis a magnificent hat, I must say. May I try it?" Rising to his feet, Rumil held out his hands as if he would honestly pluck Harry from Orophin's head.

"Share and share alike, 'tis what brothers are for." Orophin went to remove Harry from his head when the elfling squealed out and gripped tighter.

"No! I wanna stay on Fin-fin so he doesn't eat all the damn fruit!"

Rumil sighed but laughed too. "Young Harry, you really need to amend your words. Such vulgar language for one so small."

Harry stuck out his tongue.

Orophin snorted and gave Harry's back a pat and moved to sit down next to Rumil. With a position closer to the ground, Harry shifted around until he was seated on those broad elf shoulders, hands placed on Orophin's head.

"Fin-fin. Food please." Dirty toes wiggled against Orophin's chest and the elf sighed. Is this what his brothers felt when he was this small?

Harry ate his breakfast perched on Orophin's shoulders, the head used as a table, until he was full up and Glorfindel appeared, snatching his brother away from the newest members of Harry's elf family.

Once more Harry squealed, happy laughter following it as he was tossed onto Glorfindel's shoulder. "Feeny!" Harry gasped out, pounding his fists against the warrior elf's back. "My oldest brother!" The simple words causing Harry to laugh all over again. He had brothers! More than one!

Orophin and Rumil greeted Glorfindel normally-and properly-almost ignoring the elfling that hung from Glorfindel's back. A return greeting was given before, "I must steal away the elfling, I am afraid. Lord Celeborn would like to speak with him anon."

The two ellon nodded and returned to their seats and Glorfindel carried Harry out. After a few minutes of walking, he set Harry down and simply held his hand, something Harry was happy to do, jumping around Glorfindel and swinging from the arm, marveling at his brother's strength.

Eventually, they returned to Celeborn's tent where the elf in question was waiting. Harry, upon seeing Celeborn, released his brother and ploughed into Celeborn with a happy hug.

"My, Harry, you have not even been gone long and yet you are a mess. Quite the talent, I must say," Celeborn pulled a leaf from Harry's hair and let it flutter to the ground. Harry grinned, unashamed. He knew it was a talent his own kids and grandkids had shared, so it was unsurprising that he did it too.

Celeborn, instead of diving right into the conversation he was going to have with Harry, instead moved to a basin for a cloth. Harry would need to be at least partially presentable.

"Harry," He finally began as he sat on a meager chair, pulling Harry forward so he could wipe him clean, "I am going to have an important meeting soon and I had hoped I could present you." A stubborn dirt mark on Harry's cheek was attacked with the wet end of the cloth. "You have already met Lord Elrond of Rivendell. Our current circumstances, unique, what with how you… what did you call it?"

"Apparating."

"Ah, yes, that. Apparating." The foreign word twisted his tongue but was said without fault. "With you having Apparated here, it allows us the opportunity for you to meet with another of the Elvish Rulers."

Confusion flittered across Harry's face, "Rulers? Like. Leaders?"

Celeborn nodded, using the cloth on Harry's hair, which was, naturally, a lost cause. "Lady Galadriel and I are the rulers of Caras Galadhon. Lord Elrond is the ruler of Rivendell. And King Thranduil is the ruler of Mirkwood, formerly the Greenwood."

"King?" Harry squeaked, eyes wide.

"Yes, King." Celeborn's voice was warm, pleased that Harry was listening so intently. "He is the last Elvish King able to hold that title."

"You're not a king?"

"No, little one," Celeborn replied, picking up a brush to use on Harry's hair. "I may be one of the rulers of Caras Galadhon, but I am not a king, nor do I wish for such a title. I am happy as I am-if I were to have such an auspicious title, I would not be able to care for you as I do."

The words said so plainly, yet filled with such warmth and love, it caused Harry to turn pink. From the tips of his pointed ears, all the way across his nose, such an adorable shade that Celeborn couldn't stop himself was placing a new kiss to Harry's forehead. The action made the flush worse.

Harry silently fidgeted, happy with the attention for a few minutes while Celeborn continued to clean him with the cloth. Eventually, Glorfindel appeared with socks and shoes which he passed to Celeborn, who helped Harry clean his feet and put them on.

"So, wait," Harry paused as he tugged on a soft boot. "What's happening again?"

The two First Age elves laughed.

… … …

* * *

Once the reality that he was going to meet a real honest to goodness king hit him, Harry felt himself flounder. Excitement warred with a sudden bout of what Harry would never admit was actually shyness, and he decided that just like all the grownups had swords and bows and all that cool stuff, Harry would keep his stuffed toy at his side. Just in case. Because meeting an ELVISH king had to be different from meeting the kings and queens of England. Which he had done. Often. For tea. Because Harry was a badass.

Therefore, whilst clutching his stuffed toy to his side, the other clinging to Celeborn's hand, Harry marched alongside the ellon towards the tent of King Thranduil.

And what a tent it was.

Harry's shyness was almost completely lost when he saw the giant fucking STAG MOUNT nearby, steps faltering in the midst of something so fucking cool.

"Holy shit," the revenant whisper left before he could stop it, stepping away from Celeborn's side to get closer to the stag. Noticing this, Celeborn shook his head and went to see Thranduil.

Harry approached cautiously, holding a hand up to the large animal could sniff him first. It did indeed give Harry a sniff before moving its snout closer, bumping it against Harry's outstretched hand.

The elfling was ecstatic and he began to pet the large nose. By the time Celeborn and Thranduil joined Harry outside of the ostentatious tent, the elfling was babbling to the Elven Elk, showing off his stuffed toy that could be a cute miniature of the giant mount.

Thranduil was the one who cleared his throat to get Harry's attention and the elfling spun quickly to look up at the two elven lords. Well. Lord and King.

Green eyes stared before going ridiculously wide. Harry held up his toy to looked between it, the mount he had been talking to as if it were a person, and Thranduil himself.

"Oh my fuck," Harry muttered, still looking between the three. Celeborn began to start to scold Harry for his deplorable language when Harry cut him off, "Oh. My. FUCK!" the last word was shouted, followed by Harry pointing an accusing finger at Thranduil. "KING ANTLERS!"

Celeborn dropped his face into his hand, groaning softly. It was a good way to hide his humor—this was better than he imagined.

Harry felt completely proud of his new nickname for his newest friend and it showed by the smug smile the tiny elfling wore.

For his part Thranduil merely cocked an unimpressed eyebrow, looking down at the elfling. "Indeed... Elfling, you should address me as King Thranduil, as that is my name, not 'King Antlers'...

"Though I will say that I am relieved you have at least learned to use ones' titles correctly, if not their proper names." The look that he directed at Celeborn was just as callous as his eyebrow. As if it were Celeborn's fault that Harry was like that.

A look of honest consideration passed over Harry's face with the reprimand, as he tapped his chin with a finger from his free hand. In the end, he shook his head.

"Nope. King Antlers. Nice to meet you, I'm Harry!"

Thranduil's gaze sharpened accusingly. However, Harry was a force unto himself, so Celeborn could only shrug helplessly in response.

... ... ...

* * *

 **AN: So writing the whole scene with Harry looking at Haldir's dead body was awkward for me because that's not how I grieve. Plus, how do you tactfully talk about a corpse?**

 **The story of Daddy DirRumFin and his mithril necklace was, obviously, created by me. I just wanted them to have something like that so I did it. There's nothing saying it COULDN'T be true, so.**

 **Thank you again, Scarletdewdrops, for your help with this chapter. You're better than a beta lol.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 **Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

 **AN: Don't take this too seriously. I don't.**

 **Beta'd by Scarletdewdrops.**

... ... …

* * *

Harry tried to roll over slowly but was met with resistance. There was something next to him. As said something was warm and soft, Harry decided to climb on top of it and lay there instead of what he was laying on before which, while warm, was decidedly not soft.

Suddenly much more comfortable, the elfling drifted off back to sleep.

His new mattress, a highly amused Celeborn, just placed a hand on Harry's back and gently rubbed it. The elfling had been tent hoping for days now, spending one night with each of his 'family'. A night with Rumil, a night with Orophin, a night with Glorfindel. He had even spent a night with Galadriel, who had maintained her own tent during this campaign.

Celeborn wondered if Harry had cuddled with her the way he was cuddled up with him now. He knew he had with the other ellon, for they had confessed as such to him amidst much amusement.

So far, on the march back to Caras Galadhon, Harry had stayed with a different person each night… and Celeborn pondered if Harry would try to stay a night with Thranduil? The cantankerous King of Mirkwood was joining them back in Caras Galadhon so that they could, as a large party, then march on towards Minas Tirith for the impending nuptials of his granddaughter to Aragorn.

It was amusing to think what Thranduil would do if Harry tried to use him as a bed, as the elfling was doing to him.

Celeborn placed a kiss onto Harry's head and just continued to lay back and relax. Even though he knew he should get up, they probably needed to get on their way again… moments like this were too… peaceful to give up quickly.

All too soon an elf came in to inform him that they needed to start packing up and continue with their march. With much regret, Celeborn sat up and lifted Harry with him as he rose to his feet. The elfling barely stirred as Celeborn shifted him into a comfortable position on his hip, leaving the tent behind so it could be packed up.

As the Lord of Caras Galadhon made his way toward the horses, he was met by Rumil, who was adjusting a pair of gloves. "He still slumbers? Amidst this noise?"

"The power of youth," Celeborn returned, though he suspected that Harry was half faking it by now. "He will have to eat while we ride, unfortunately." That got a noise out of Harry. A noise of protest.

Rumil laughed and passed over a parcel of something, most likely the breakfast they had both missed in favor of sleeping in. Harry peeked open an eye before shooting out his hand and snatching it away from Celeborn.

Maintaining his position against the elder elf's chest, Harry pulled out some of the foodstuffs and started to munch away. Celeborn could only shake his head in amusement.

It took a little finagling, but Harry was eventually put onto the horse and Celeborn mounted behind him. The elfling offered bites of food to Celeborn as they rode, making sure both were fed enough-though Celeborn made sure to drink from the water skin on his own.

Before long they were settled down for another small night of rest. Harry was sitting between his new brothers, Rumil's hand in his lap so he could play with the callused fingers.

"You know, my hands used to be like this," Harry claimed, placing his much smaller hand on the larger one before him.

"Oh? Did you know combat?" Rumil curled his fingers up so that the bends met where Harry's fingers ended.

"In a way. I had wand calluses and broom calluses," He giggled, seeing the size difference between their hands. He used to do that with his great-great-grandkids when they were this size too. "So different, but the same."

"Broom? You cleaned?" Rumil's confusion was clear in his voice.

"Well, yes, I cleaned, but no, I flew on my broom." Harry looked up at his new brother, totally amused. "Alfy doesn't fly on a broom?"

Rumil laughed in delight. The thought of Gandalf flying on a broom was wonderfully ridiculous. Orophin, and those all eavesdropping nearby, all held in a snicker of laughter as well. "No, he does not partake in something like that."

"Huh…" mused the elfling, leaning against Rumil's side as his eyes drifted to the fire. "He probably wouldn't be a good flyer anyway."

The rest of their days passed in a similar manner until the entire group had gone through the whole forest and returned to Caras Galadhon. Once there, Harry got to meet three new elves!

"Oh shit," Harry said the second he laid eyes on the new elleth. "She's SUPER Pretty!" He was trying to speak _sotto voce_ but since he was a child, he didn't really succeed.

Celeborn, who had been riding with Harry again, let out an undignified snort. "Yes, my granddaughter, Arwen, is … super pretty… as you put it."

Harry whipped his head around quickly, staring up at Celeborn with wide eyes. "Granddaughter!?" He actually squeaked, how cute.

"Yes. My daughter is her mother."

"I know what a granddaughter is!" Harry shoved Celeborn, but as they were still mounted, it did very little. Celeborn laughed as Harry slapped a hand against the ellon's chest. "I have so many granddaughters and great-granddaughters, I'd hope I know what they are!" Celeborn just laughed more, finally slipping from his horse and reaching his hands up for Harry.

Harry though snubbed Celeborn, crossing his arms and looking away.

Celeborn was having none of that and just pulled the elfling from the horse. Harry let out an indignant shout, arms and legs flailing.

"AHH HEY, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO ME PUT ME DOWN AAHHHH!"

Despite the part of him that really didn't want to, Celeborn set the elfling down as he requested. Harry stomped his foot and glared up at the ellon.

"Lord Celeborn. Who is this?" Arwen made her way over during Harry's tantrum, smiling beatifically at her grandfather.

"This is the newest elfling, Harry."

Arwen, having heard the news, was very happy to meet the little elfling. Arranging her skirts around herself, she knelt down to be on the same level as Harry.

" _Mae govannen_ , Harry. It's great to finally meet you." Her smile lit up her face.

"Finally? People talked about me?" The anger and tantrum were left forgotten by this new information.

"Of course. I was the last elfling we had, and I'm already over 2700 years old."

Green eyes opened super wide and he glanced between Arwen and Celeborn. Then he remembered back to a conversation a few weeks ago and his mouth formed a little O of understanding. "Oh, right, elves live a super long time."

The elleth laughed gaily and brushed her fingers through Harry's hair like everyone seemed to love doing. "Yes, that we do." Arwen stood then, turning to Celeborn to speak with him about something.

Harry watched the conversation for a moment before wandering away, bored. There wasn't much he could do to help with the unpacking, though he did make sure to jump and grab his pack from the horse he'd shared with Celeborn. It had his stuffed animal in it, after all.

Once he had his toy, pack slung over his back, he trotted off from that staging area they had stopped in and went for a wander. He knew he would be safe, even if he wasn't in Caras Galadhon because he could feel the safety in the air. Or the magic, or the world. Or something.

Either way, the danger was gone, and Harry felt giddy.

A few more steps and he broke out into a run, throwing his arms out wide.

His joy spread to any within earshot, brightening their mood as well. Soon songs filled the air to reflect this new mood. While there was still some sorrow, some mourning, the battles had been fought and won. This was a time for cheer.

… … …

* * *

Harry's run was cut short when he ran into a pair of legs. Actually, he felt with his arms, two sets of legs. There was one set underneath each of his arms.

Tilting his head back, Harry made eye contact with what could only be a pair of twins.

"My, my, my, what do we have here?" the right twin said, dropping down into a crouch.

"I think we have found a little elfling, Brother," the left twin replied, dropping down as well.

Harry's eyes slowly went wide as his head twitched between the two.

"How adorable he is, with his hobbit hair," Right twin commented, ruffling Harry's curly locks.

"His skin is like that of a dolls," Left Twin added, giving Harry's left cheek a pinch.

The elfling was almost feeling overwhelmed but in a good way.

However, his small body couldn't express it right and his eyes began to well with tears.

"Oh no, brother dearest," Right Twin started, glancing to his brother and then back to Harry.

"Oh dear," Left Twin continued, reaching out with one arm, Right Twin adding his own, enveloping Harry in a hug. "It's all right, Harry. We did not mean to burden you."

"No," Harry hiccuped, rubbing his wet cheeks on the two shoulders in front of him. "You just. Remind me of family. From before." He wrapped his arms around the pair of necks on either side of him, returning the hug.

"What an honor," Right Twin said, resting his head against Harry's.

"To be reminded of family," Left Twin continued,

"-is of the highest honor..."

"-to those of us who find…"

"-family to be the most important thing."

Harry's body shook as he sobbed for a moment, but he was able to recover.

"Family IS the most important thing. But you're not my great-grandkids, nor my brothers in law. I won't compare you to them." The elfling leaned back so he could smile at the two before him. "What are your names?"

"I am Elladon," said Right Twin, "and this is my brother Elrohir. _Mae govannen_ , Harry."

… … …

Harry spent the day with the twins. They were so reminiscent of Fred and George that at one point in his life, he might have tried to compare them to the Weasley twins. Of course, by 237, he had several sets of grandkids and great-grandkids, and great-great grandkids who were multiples that he knew comparing people to others-especially twins who are already so intrinsically linked to one another-just wasn't kind or fair!

That's why he made that comment. Elladan and Elrohir were their own people. They weren't the twins reincarnate, just like his grandkids hadn't been.

The familiarity of their personalities was nice though.

It didn't take Harry long at all to give them nicknames.

They had been given out during the dinner feast. Harry was standing on his chair, attempting to reach something that was near Elrohir, but the ellon was busy talking to the elf next to him that he didn't notice.

Finally, the elfling shouted, "RORY GIVE ME THE DAMN BREAD!"

The outburst silenced most nearby and Harry flushed at the attention. Hah, whoops. He was too old (or young) to really feel shame for what he'd done, so, now that he had Elrohir's attention, he asked again most calmly. "Rory. Bread. Please." And held out his hand, still standing on his seat.

Elladan, sitting next to Harry, started to snicker which caused a ripple effect at the rest of the table. Elrohir did finally hand over the bread though, so the elfling sat back down and munched on it.

"Say, dear elfling," Elladan began, putting an arm around the back of Harry's seat, "I had heard that you liked to give names to those close to you, but I never expected something like 'Rory' for my dearest brother."

Harry looked up at Elladan, all cuteness with his puffed cheeks and bread still in his mouth that he was gnawing on. He finished his bite and swallowed before speaking. "Well, what shall I call you?

"Can I call you El? Or maybe just Dan?" Harry tapped his chin, Elladan laughing along with Harry's contemplation, "How 'bout 'Laddy'? It sounds like, 'Here boy!'" Harry whistled and made a come-on motion, "'Come on Laddy!'" He started cackling after he said it, the nickname decided.

Though cackling from an elfling definitely sounded more like giggling.

They also didn't get it.

But they joined in with the laughter because it was contagious.

… … …

That night, in Harry's room, his new friends joined him in a quiet (ish?) evening with his brothers, all three of them, in tow.

He was currently sitting in Glorfindel's lap while he played a memory, hand-clapping type of game with Rumil while everyone else around him was reading or chatting quietly.

After Harry's third loss in a row, he flopped back, knocking his head into Glorfindel's solar plexus and causing the man to cough.

"Oops. Sorry Feeny," Harry rubbed his head against that broad chest as if that could make it better.

"Quite all right, brother," grunted Glorfindel.

Harry's eyes were glued to Glorfindel's face though. Then he turned around in that lap and slapped both of his hands against the ellon's cheeks.

The Golden Lord grunted again, staring back at the face of his brother. "Is there any reason you keep hurting me?"

"Maybe," replied Harry, releasing Glorfindel's face and repeating his motions with Rumil.

The conversation between Elladan and Orophin paused after Harry hopped down from his best and jumped into Orophin's lap to do the same thing to him. From there, Harry looked at Elladan and Elrohir and stated quite plainly, "What the fuck?"

Glorfindel let out the softest sigh, rubbing a finger against his temple. "Harry, my brother, we have spoken many a time about you using such language. It beneath you."

"Nonononooo…" Harry waved away his comment. As if he would stop swearing just because it was 'beneath' him. "No. No. Just. What is going on?"

"Begging your pardon?" Elrohir asked, looking around the room at all the elves present. "What do you speak of Harry?"

"Why do all elves have dark eyebrows? Even though Feeny, Rum-Rum, and Fin-Fin have super uber mega blond hair, their eyebrows are as dark as Rory, Laddy, and myself! At least I think I have dark eyebrows-QUICK, FIN-FIN WHAT COLOR ARE MY EYEBROWS?"

"... black," was the simple, slightly confused reply.

Harry let out a heavy sigh of relief and then returned to his prior topic. "Yeah, anyway, why do all elves have dark eyebrows? Shouldn't your eyebrows be as blond as your hair? Even Lassy had dark eyebrows… And…" right before Harry said the name, he couldn't stop a small sniffle, "Dir-dir did too."

There was a long pause, the elder ellon contemplating this new craziness that Harry brought, but it was broken when Harry gasped. "OH MY GOSH LADY GLADDY HAS DARK EYEBROWS TOO. DOES. … DOES." There was a moment where Harry stuttered, some name getting choked in his throat. "I gotta go." And he bolted from Orophin's lap and from the room.

"Did that really just happen?" Elladan asked, gesturing towards the open door where Harry had left.

Orophin, being the closest, gave Elladan a consoling pat on the shoulder. "'Tis something quite normal around our dear elfling. His prior life, before being brought to Arda, was that of a human. An excessively long-lived human, but still…"

The twins nodded in unison. That did explain some of the eccentricities they have observed so far from Harry.

"Anyway, shall we continue our conversation?"

"Lets."

After an hour, when Harry still hadn't returned, Glorfindel eased himself to his feet. "I suppose I shall go track down our wayward elfling… though there's no telling where he has gone this time..."

"Good luck!" the other ellons called after him, snickering behind his back. Mostly at the way the Golden Lord was being so thoroughly defeated by the new elfling.

Harry was eventually found in a tree, high from the ground, but near a window that Glorfindel recognized.

"So this is where you ran off too," Glorfindel murmured as he carried Harry back to his room.

"Feeny," Harry whined into Glorfindel's shoulder. The next word was mostly mumbled but then, "...has dark eyebrows too. It's so strange." And then Harry's body went fully limp as he dropped asleep.

The elf lord looked back in the direction they had come and then smiled gently.

"Yes, he does indeed have dark eyebrows. Good observation, brother."

Then Glorfindel continued on towards Harry's room.

… … ...

 **AN: To all the amazing guest reviews from the last chapter: Thank you. To the (woman? Possibly pregnant woman?) who wailed over Haldir? My job is complete.**

 **(Sorry this took me so long to both write and post. I started writing this in April, I swear… but... Summers are absolutely killer in Korea, between the weather and traveling and summer camp and grades I have absolutely NOTHING to give. Once all of that was over, however, I started a new fic with kid!Harry lol)**

 **Also, here is a rant that I sent to Scarletdewdrops:**

LAST CHAPTER.

I GOOGLED ELVISH VS ELFISH

and I learned the answer and it pissed me off.

lol

Oh no. Elvish vs Elven vs Elfish.

But like. I learned the difference and I was like "should I go back through this entire 5k long chapter and FIX IT?"

and I started to.

Then I said

FUCK IT

and left it as is

lol


End file.
